


Sometimes You Find Hope in the Darkest Places

by realmsoffreedom



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Cancer, Depression, F/M, Leukemia, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:40:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3081809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realmsoffreedom/pseuds/realmsoffreedom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why are you so patient with me? I want to die, and that's fucking selfish, because there's a possibility that you will, even though you don't want to."</p><p>"Because I love you. I'm not going to die, and neither are you."</p><p>Or, where Michael is a depressed, anxiety-ridden, self-harming introvert, whose mother is forcing him to volunteer at a hospital, and Ashton is a patient suffering from leukemia, whose outlook on life is strangely optimistic and positive, for someone in his situation.</p><p>This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. 
> 
> This is my new story- and as you can probably tell by the summary, it's gonna be painful. I'm warning you now- there's gonna be a lot of triggering shit in here- Michael isn't in a good place, and most of this is gonna be his thoughts, so if you're easily triggered, I wouldn't advise reading this.
> 
> Cancer is not a subject I have experience writing in, but two of my uncles are oncologists, and I've gotten some information from them. I'm gonna try and make this as accurate as possible, but there will be things that'll be fictional, I don't know everything about chemo and shit. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy.

Michael has no idea why he’s even in this damn car. 

His mum had the bright idea that helping others will essentially help him, so here he is, being driven to the local hospital. This day is far from ideal- and truthfully, all he wants to do is submerge himself in blankets and take a blade to his wrist. 

Hospitals are homes for _sick_ people. People suffering, in pain, people with horrid diseases or incurable ailments- people who have it so much worse than he does. And Michael can’t help but hate himself that much _more_ , for wanting to die, when there are people who have it so much fucking _worse_.

It’s not fair- Michael knows he’s selfish and ungrateful. He should be happy that he’s completely physically healthy- that he has no terminal diseases, that his fate isn’t permanently sealed. Sure, he _wants_ to die, but he’s not one of the people who only has six months to live, or something like that. His death is entirely his choice. 

He sighs, resting his forehead against the window. Of course, his mum didn’t think he’d actually come to the hospital, if she let him drive himself, so she’s chauffeuring him there. Pretty pathetic, isn’t it? He’s 17, and he still has his mummy drive him places, what a fucking baby. 

Michael just doesn’t think he’s worth it anymore- his perception of himself is entirely distorted. In his eyes, he’s nothing but a lost cause- they can try and save him, but he’s already too fucking far gone. He’s the reject at school- the bullying target, the one who’s called a fucking _faggot_ more than his own name. 

And his mum _wonders_ why he cuts himself. 

It’s so fucked up, _he’s_ so fucked up. Everything is just turning to shit, he’s such a mess and he has no fucking _clue_ how to fix himself. Therapy doesn’t help, Calum hasn’t been able to do anything, and he _won’t_ go to rehab. Michael isn’t firm on a lot of things, but he is firm on the fact that he will _not_ go to rehab. He’d rather slam his head in a car door, than ever set _foot_ in a rehab clinic. 

This is his last hope. His mum said that it’s either this, or rehab for three months. And hell over high water, there was _no_ way he was picking the latter. So now, for the next three months, he’s stuck being chauffeured to the hospital every other day, after school. 

His shift is 3 to 7 on weekdays, and he also volunteers every other weekend, all fucking day. Apparently, it should be a distraction from cutting, and his mum has this bright idea, that it’ll help him stop. Michael wanted to laugh when she told him that- that’s fucking bull. Distractions are _not_ going to help him stop cutting. The only thing that’ll make him stop cutting, is his own death. 

…

Michael sits numbly through the lecture, along with all the other volunteers. None of them look like potential friend candidates- and he’s glad about that. He isn’t here to make friends and get attached to people- he’s here because he has to be, and he knows that he will not enjoy a single second of it. His fate is sealed- he’s going to hate these three months more than anything- but it’s still better than rehab. _Anything_ is better than rehab, at this point.

The presentation is typical. They’re told what to do, and what not to do, where boundaries lie, things like that. They’re supposed to try and get the patients’ spirits up, try and make them feel better about the ordeals they’re going through. In Michael’s opinion, all of this is pretty stupid. How the fuck do you tell a kid with a terminal disease that everything will be okay? Are these people trying to con them into giving sick kids false hope? That’s pretty shitty, if you ask him. The presentation ends with kind smiles, a stack of volunteer badges hefted into the air, and a room full of excited people. Except for him. Michael crosses his arms over his chest and glances darkly at his feet. 

He watches bitterly, as every single one of them get up, talking animatedly in groups, leaving him to be the only lone wolf. It doesn’t matter to him. He just wants to get this over with, so he can go home and cut and cry himself to sleep like always. If it were up to him, that’s what he’d be doing all day- it’s Saturday, he would’ve had the entire day to cut and cry and feel sorry for himself. 

Rising to his feet, he trudges to the front of the room, accepting the volunteer badge and list of patients to visit. 

He scans the list as he walks out of the room, face growing grim at the number of patients there are. First on the list is some guy named Louis Tomlinson. According to the number beside his name, he’s up one floor. Michael glances around for the elevator, finally locating it, and walking in that direction. 

He gets into the elevator, leaning against the wall with his head back. Closing his eyes, he tries to ward away the oncoming panic attack. Situations like this are stressful and cause his anxiety to flare up- he hates people, and meeting new people is absolutely terrorizing. 

The elevator finally opens, and he walks out onto the floor, finding the room quickly. With a hand on the doorknob, he feels nerves crash over him, anxiety and fear overwhelming and easily consuming his body. This is so fucking terrifying, why is his mum making him do this? 

When he steps into the room, his heart fucking _stops._

There’s a guy on top of the guy on the hospital bed, and they’re making out- quite heatedly, to be honest. Another guy is sitting in a chair off to the side, scrolling through his phone. 

Now, Michael isn’t against gays at _all_ \- in fact, he’s gay himself, but no one else has to know that. However, he might be asexual- at least, that’s what he thinks, considering how much he’s read about it, and how well he fits that category. Seeing people have sex or make out- that makes him extremely uncomfortable. The two guys aren’t making out as heatedly as they could be, but it’s still enough to make him squirm, because sure, he wants a boyfriend, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever be up to making out or having sex with that boyfriend. Sadly, that puts him and getting a boyfriend on two separate sides of a spectrum- not many lads are okay with not making out or having sex. It’s a rarity that one will be. It’s better, because he’s a guy, and even if they wanted kids, they’d have to adopt or get a surrogate, but the chances a guy will be okay with never making out or having sex is rare. 

“Oi, there’s a guy in the doorway, will you two stop sucking face for two seconds?!” The guy on his phone has noticed him, and Michael couldn’t be more grateful for that. The two boys on the bed pull apart, panting and breathless. 

“Sorry about that,” The guy sitting off to the side says. “M’Zayn, and these two pricks are my friends, Louis and Harry.” He motions to his friends as he talks, and Michael gives a slight, shaky nod.

“Who are you?” Louis asks. Michael notices the large white cast on his right leg, and the black brace on his left wrist. There are a couple of gashes on his face; it looks like he’s been in an accident and beaten pretty badly. Despite what Michael just had to walk in on, he can’t help but feel really sorry for Louis. Even though he does feel remorseful for the brunette, he’s still shaking in fear, unable to compose himself long enough to form coherent thoughts.

“M-Michael,” he chokes out. “There’s some v-volunteer thing…?”

“Oh yeah, I was telling you about that, Lou. Remember?” Harry reminds softly, pressing a kiss to Louis’ cheek. 

Louis’ eyes widen in realization. “Shit, I remember now, damn…”

“Sorry you had to walk in on us making out, again,” Harry says, rubbing his hand over his boyfriend’s palm. “Lou just got out of surgery, and he was in pain, so I thought that maybe a distraction would help him take his mind off it.”

“It’s f-fine,” Michael stutters nervously. He’s uncomfortable, and he would rather run from this place as fast as he can, than shuffle his feet awkwardly, trying not to flinch under their stares.

“You don’t have to be so scared, we won’t bite,” Zayn says gently. “Are you alright?”

“You’re not homophobic, are you?” Louis asks, his eyes darkening. He glares, his gaze raking over Michael in a way that makes him feel extremely victimized. “If you are, I think we’ll have a problem.”

“N-No, I’m gay too,” Michael whispers, glancing at the floor. This is fucked up. He was going to go in, completely hating the world with a horrid attitude, but talking to people has him stuttering like an idiot, looking for what exactly to say. He freezes up in situations like this- always has, it’s apparently a symptom of anxiety.

“You look really uncomfortable,” Zayn says. “Why don’t you go and calm down? You don’t need to be here if you’re this uncomfortable. Everything’s okay, Haz and I are here, so Lou’s fine.”

He smiles, thanking him quickly, before turning and rushing out of the room. The hallway is empty, thank god for that. Michael glances at his list, for the next person. It says Ashton Irwin, two floors up. 

Someone remind him why the fuck he’s doing this, because he’s starting to think rehab would’ve been better.

…

Michael finally managed to calm down from his mini-panic, and now he’s on his way to Ashton’s room. Considering how he was greeted when walking into Louis’, he doesn’t have high hopes for this. Maybe Ashton is some old ass guy, or a snotty asshole, either way, Michael knows that he’s going to hate the encounters. Voluntarily talking to people has never been his thing. 

He steps into Ashton’s room, feeling the nerves start back up again. He swallows, trying to force them back down.

The boy in the hospital bed is _beautiful._

Physically, it looks like there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s sitting up, phone in one hand. The other is connected to an IV and there are wires from a heart monitor connected as well. He’s a little darker than Michael, but he looks pretty pale. He’s got a curly mop of dirty blonde hair, and a red bandanna holding them back from his face. His arms are muscular- in fact, his entire body is, and he has hazel-green eyes. He looks amazing, with a kind smile and warm eyes, as he looks up from his phone. 

“Hey, mate! You from that volunteer thing?” His voice is amazing, it sounds like no other Michael's ever heard. He’s definitely Australian. His accent isn’t that prominent, considering Michael's Australian as well, but he does have an accent, and he can already say it’s fucking adorable. 

Michael nods shakily, watching his grin widen. 

“It’s good to meet you, I’m Ashton. You are?”

“M-Michael,” he chokes out. 

Ashton’s eyes scan him once over, and he nods slowly. “You look scared, mate, m’not gonna hurt you. You don’t need to be scared of a cancer patient.”

Michael freezes.

“W-What?” He looks at Ashton in shock, unable to believe what he’s just heard. Cancer patient? He can’t be…that’s not fair. 

Michael can see tears filling his eyes, as Ashton speaks again. “A cancer patient. I have leukemia, Michael.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daily updates aren't a thing, I just had some inspiration, and this came out of it. 
> 
> Thanks for the response on the first chapter- you guys are amazing. It'd be great if the same thing could happen this chapter. You might not like the end of this, but...I did say it wouldn't be an easy ride, didn't I? ;)
> 
> Enjoy.

Ashton watches Michael stagger back- he sees the shock in the kid’s eyes, and it’s bittersweet. Bitter- because yeah, no one expected him to get cancer. Never in his life, did he ever expect to be cursed with this horrid disease. Yet, Michael’s reaction is also sweet- they haven’t even talked for ten full minutes, and he already cares. That’s something you don’t find very often- though Michael looks like the type of guy to care. 

His hair is extremely vibrant- that’s what drew Ashton’s attention to him at first. The red color stands out prominently, and to be honest, it makes him look cute. He’s dressed in all black, skinny jeans, and a large sweatshirt that goes past his hands. He’s pale, shaking furiously, and looking at me with fear in his eyes- Ashton feels sorry for him. It looks like he’s been crippled with anxiety- he knows that you can’t tell just by looking at a person, but it’s kinda obvious. 

“You have cancer?” Michael asks softly. “I’m so sorry, shit, I just…”

“Relax, mate,” Ashton replies gently. “It’s okay. It’s not something you need to apologize for; I’ve just had some shitty luck. I have acute lymphocytic leukemia, and yes, while it is leukemia- the survival rate is pretty high. So yeah, it fucking sucks, but I’m not gonna die, which is good, I guess.”

Michael nods, placated by this. He shifts his feet awkwardly, looking unsure of himself. “I’m sorry, I’m new, and I just…I don’t really know what to do…”

“This is okay,” Ashton reassures him. “You’re just supposed to talk to us, make us feel less lonely, shit like that. It’s informal, the only thing you can’t do is help in the medical aspect of things- you’re not a doctor, and that could be dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” Michael murmurs. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“There’s a chair over there.” Ashton points out the object. “Pull it up, and we can talk.”

Michael does as he says, sliding the chair next to his bed. He sits stiffly, tugging at his sleeves, making sure his arms stay covered. 

Ashton has an idea of why that could be- but he doesn’t want to scare Michael away. He’s just met the guy, and he already looks scared as fuck, adding to that by confronting him about possible self-harm would make matters a lot worse.

“So, Michael, what do you wanna talk about?” Ashton asks, smiling at him. He’s trying to make the scared lad feel as comfortable as possible; he’s not shaking as much anymore, so that’s a good thing.

“Do you need anything?” Michael spits out. “Like, anything I can do or get you or something?”

Ashton sighs. “No, I’m fine. I’m not that far into my treatment- I was only diagnosed recently. I still feel fine, and what you can do for me, is have a conversation with me. Anything specific you wanna talk about? If not, I’m gonna go into bands, because that’s the only thing I know a lot about.”

Michael seems to light up at the mention of music. “Bands would be amazing, music is my life.” He unzips his sweatshirt shyly, revealing a black All Time Low shirt, and that gives Ashton a feeling of relief. Finally, something relatable. 

“Is All Time Low your favorite band?” Ashton asks. This is relieving. He didn’t think he’d have anything in common with Michael, and that would’ve made it extremely difficult to connect and get him to stop being so nervous and scared. The only way Michael will open up is through talking, and talking about something he really loves will make it that much easier. 

Michael nods. “That, and Blink. I also love Green Day, Nickelback, Pierce The Veil, Fall Out Boy, shit like that…”

“You have good music taste,” Ashton compliments. “Green Day is probably my favorite band. I love the ones you’ve mentioned, also Bring Me The Horizon, The Foo Fighters, Silverchair, A Day To Remember, and a few others.”

“Favorite Green Day song?” Ashton notices a light in Michael’s eyes that’s just beautiful. He’s so passionate about this subject- it was a good idea to bring it up.

“Jesus of Suburbia,” Ashton responds easily. “You?”

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” Michael says. “All Time Low?”

“Lost in Stereo.” Ashton smiles at the thought. “My best friend is obsessed with All Time Low. His favorite is Therapy.”

“That’s a good one.” Michael nods. “Kinda describes how I feel, a lot of the time. A walking travesty.”

“Yeah…” Ashton agrees. He doesn’t really feel that way anymore, but disagreeing would obviously cause a sense of discomfort to Michael, and he’s trying to get the boy to open up. 

Michael falls silent, looking hesitant, as he stares down at his shoes. Ashton sighs heavily. This isn’t going to be easy. It’s not that he doesn’t want the challenge of getting Michael to open up; it’s just that he hates how people treat him, knowing he has cancer. He’s still the same Ashton he always has been, just with leukemia. Just because he has cancer, doesn’t mean people need to walk on eggshells around him. He’s not fragile; he won’t break if he’s treated normal.

“Listen, Michael,” Ashton begins softly. “I don’t want you to treat me any differently, than you’d treat any of your other friends. I have cancer, but that doesn’t make me fragile, damaged, or anything. It’s just a fuck up of cells, I’m not going to break if you talk to me normally.”

He barely catches Michael’s response. “I’d have to have friends, to be able to treat you like I treat them.”

Ashton looks at him in surprise. “What did you say?”

Michael’s head snaps up, eyes filling with fear. “N-Nothing! Just…I don’t have friends…”

“Yeah, sure you do,” Ashton replies instantly. “You have me, don’t you?”

“Why would you want me to be your friend? We just met. For all you know, I could be some kind of psychopath, wanting to kill you,” Michael mutters.

“ _Are_ you a psychopath? And _do_ you wanna kill me?” Ashton asks, tilting his head to the side.

When he receives a shake of the head from Michael, he nods. “Exactly. So we’re friends. And you have no business arguing with me about it. I want to be your friend.”

“I still don’t understand why.” Michael won’t look at him anymore, and Ashton seriously wishes he wasn’t connected to all these damn wires, so he could jump out of bed, and practically _shake_ Michael. He doesn’t understand why the lad is being so stubborn. It’s not that he resents him for it, it’s just frustrating.

“You don’t need to understand,” Ashton replies. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Michael’s tone is much lower- and Ashton detects pain in his voice. He listens, wanting to know what, exactly, is making this lad so fucking terrified of forming a friendship.

“What _are_ you worried about?”

“I don’t want to drag you into the mess that I am, Ashton,” Michael whispers, and now Ashton can _hear_ tears. He can hear how choked up Michael is, without even looking at him. “You’re a beautiful person, and I don’t want to drag you into this. Once you’re in, it’s hard to get out, and trust me, you don’t want to deal with me. You don’t want to be my friend. No one does. I’ve accepted it. I don’t know whether you think I look lonely, or look like I need someone, but I don’t, because I know that trusting people is stupid. Eventually they’ll turn on you, and I can’t go through that with you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

…

Michael walks out to his mother’s car with a heavy head and the desperate need to sink a blade into his flesh.

After walking out on Ashton, he didn’t bother finishing the rest of the rooms. He just found a quiet place, where no nurses walked, to sit and cry. He cried until he couldn’t anymore, just reflecting on how much Ashton probably hates him right now, and when the clock finally struck five, he was happy. His shift is ten to five on Saturdays, there’s a lunch break in between, but does he look like one to eat?

His mum asks questions, and he gives answers in a monotone, limiting them to one word, signifying that he doesn’t want to talk. She must chalk it up to him being sad about what he had to see in the hospital, but he’s just upset because Ashton hates him now, and Monday is going to be hell. 

He doesn’t mean to push people away- it just happens. He’s lost a lot of people, his dad being one of the first. His dad walked out on them when he was seven, no explanation, no last words, nothing. He just picked up and left, taking pieces of Michael’s heart with him. That’s what people do, they leave when it gets to be too hard, and Michael can’t trust anyone because of it. 

When he’s finally home, Michael goes straight up to his bathroom, locking the door immediately. He kneels in front of the cabinet, reaching deep inside. He pulls out a small box, before closing the cabinet, and prying the lid of the box open. It’s full of blades, pocketknives, scissors, anything sharp, really. When his mum when through his room for blades, she never checked here, thank god. 

Michael stands up, pulling a blade from the box, and sits down on the toilet, rolling up the sleeve of his large sweatshirt. His left wrist is a roadmap of scars and fresh cuts and marks. There’s blood and healing scars and it be honest, it’s quite grotesque. 

It doesn’t bother Michael, as he sinks the blade into his flesh. He didn’t want to do it today, he tried to push the thoughts away, but after fucking up with Ashton, he has no idea what to do anymore. 

It’s clear.

Rehab would’ve been _so_ much better than this.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s crazy, how time passes extremely slowly when you want it to pass quickly, and how it passes extremely quickly when you want it to pass slowly. Crazy, and destructive at the same time. Michael hates how fast the time has passed- Sunday was a complete blur, and now he’s finding himself attempting to get ready for school at whatever ungodly hour of the morning it happens to be. 

The previous day was a mess of tears, cuts, and self-loathing. He locked himself in his room, and didn’t come out until his mum pounded on the door and forced him out for meals. Luckily, she didn’t see him toss his food into the trash when her back was turned. The thought of eating disgusts him, Michael knows that he doesn’t deserve to. 

There are a lot of things he doesn’t deserve in this life- the most important being that he doesn’t deserve to live. There are so many people that could have their lives ripped away in a single second, and here he is, slicing his skin, and practically _begging_ to die. He doesn’t want to be here anymore, and he knows how selfish it sounds- he hates ignoring how selfish the thought is, but the pain is too much. It hurts to live, and Michael doesn’t ever think he’s felt so alone. 

“Mikey, sweetheart, we need to leave in ten minutes, if we want to get you to school on time!”

He remembers taking the bus, and after his suicide attempt, he revealed how he’s bullied on the vehicle, and how it makes him want to cut. That was the end of riding the bus to school- his mom drops him off, then goes to work, picks him up on her break and takes him home, and then goes back to work. It’s a cycle, and he really wishes he hadn’t said anything about being bullied on the bus. It isn’t fair to put his mum through this.

“Michael!”

Sighing to himself, he grabs his bag, and with one wistful glance at the sanctuary he calls his room, steps out into the hallway.

…

“I’ll be here at 2:30, just like always, alright?”

Michael nods to his mother, pushing open the passenger side door. 

“Wait, sweetheart.” 

He glances over, raising an eyebrow. His mum sighs. “I love you, baby, okay? I know that you’re still not fully better, and I hope that volunteering will help rake your mind off things, but remember this won’t last forever. I love you, baby, have a good day.” She motions him forward, and he complies, leaning in so she can kiss his forehead.

“Love you, mum,” he mumbles in reply. He doesn’t talk much, let alone tell his mum he loves her openly, but it’s worth it, seeing the smile on her face as the words leave his lips. He doesn’t like communication- but he’ll do anything for his mum. She deserves it, after having to put up with him for seventeen years.

It’s not that he doesn’t love his mum. He does, more than anything. It’s just that she wants him to be open about his recovery and about his feelings…and he just can’t do that. He’s not the type of person to air his emotions out like laundry, he keeps a lot locked in, and lets it build until he explodes. It isn’t the most practical way of doing things, but it’s better than placing trust in someone, someone that will only betray him later. He isn’t willing to take that chance. 

He slams the car door shut, and walks around to the sidewalk, on his way into the school. It seems like his anxiety has an idea of when he enters the building, because as he does, he feels his breathing start to speed up, and his heart begins to race. It seems weird, personifying a disorder, but it’s something he’s always done. He thinks of them as demons, demons trying to control him and mess with his head. His depression and anxiety act up at the worst possible times- effectively causing him to freeze up- and this is definitely one of those times. 

Self-consciously, he tugs at the sleeves of his sweatshirt, as he walks through the halls. 

“Mikey!”

Michael doesn’t even need to turn his head, to know that it’s his best- and only- friend, calling his name.

“Hey, Cal,” he says softly, continuing to walk, but slowing down his pace slightly, so the other lad can catch up. Calum does so momentarily, falling into place beside him. 

“How’d it go, yesterday?” Calum asks gently, as they near his locker. “Was it as bad as you thought it’d be?”

Michael sighs. It really wasn’t _bad_ , per say, he did meet Ashton, and he _does_ think the guy is tolerable, but after the incident…he has no idea what to say. “It went alright. And no, wasn’t as bad as I thought.” He chooses a lie- he’s told numerous lies to Calum- the other lad knows he’s too unsure, to be truthful all the time, he understands.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Calum replies. “Your mum really thinks it’ll help, and I’m inclined to agree.”

Michael nods his head distractedly, trying to seem interested in what Calum’s saying. In reality, he’s contemplating how bad it would be, if he ducked into the bathroom and scratched at his healing cuts, until they reopened. Not the most ethical idea- but it’s only 7:25 am, and he’s already beyond done with this day.

“Hey, Michael, look at me for a second.”

That grabs Michael’s attention immediately. He freezes, turning to face Calum nervously. The phrases ‘look at me’, ‘we need to talk’, ‘can you listen to me for a second’, and many others…those are phrases that have started to translate into pangs of alarm, in his mind. He knows Calum wouldn’t yell at him- but the fear is always there.

“I have to sit with the team at lunch today, we have a game this afternoon,” Calum says apologetically. “I’m sorry, I can’t get out of it. I just…please don’t hurt yourself, Mikey. I care about you a lot, and it kills me to know that you’re doing something like that to yourself. Promise me?”

“I can’t promise, Cal,” Michael whispers. “I can’t promise anything.”

…

School passes too quickly, in Michael’s opinion. He just numbly makes it through, barely flinching when he’s pressed against the wall and used as a human punching bag. The bruises come, stinging and aching, but he pays no mind. It’s nothing he isn’t used to. He spends lunch in the bathroom, locked in a stall with a blade to his wrist. That’s nothing he isn’t used to, either. 

He doesn’t want school to end- that means having to go to the hospital, and having to see Ashton again. Michael doesn’t know whether he’s ready for that encounter. Ashton’s probably still angry at him- and he _hates_ having people angry at him. 

“Hi baby, how was your day?”

He gets the same question from his mum every day, as he gets into the car. He removes one of the earbuds from his ear, before answering. “Fine. Like usual.”

She nods, but he doesn’t think he was very convincing. It’s hard to be convincing, when he gets quieter and quieter by the day.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’m going to drop you off at the hospital. I’ll be back around seven, maybe I’ll grab a pizza for dinner. Sound good?”

Michael nods, sitting back, and tilting his head against the headrest. The drive isn’t long- the hospital is in the center of town- close to everything, which is a convenience for some, but not for people like him, who are trying to avoid the building like it’s the plague.

“Have fun, I love you!” 

Michael gets out of the car, as his mum pulls up to the entrance, nodding to her. He mouths the phrase back, which seems to placate her. He hears his mum drive off, as he turns to the large building in front of him. 

It shouldn’t feel like a prison, but it does.

…

Michael checks in on Louis first, disgruntled when he encounters Harry, who smiles at him and motions to his sleeping boyfriend. He had hoped Louis would be available to talk, maybe pass time with, but that isn’t the case. The universe seems to be pushing him to talk with Ashton, no matter how much he’s trying to avoid it. 

Stepping in front of Ashton’s room door brings a new wave of panic to rush over him, sweeping him and knocking him over like a tidal wave. His hands are shaking, as he knocks on the door.

A muffled ‘come in!’ emits from behind the door, and Michael swallows back the lump in his throat, opening the door and stepping inside, immediately whirling around to shut it behind him. He wants to avoid talking to Ashton as much as he can.

“Hey, Michael,” Ashton says softly. His gaze is warm, and Michael is confused. Why isn’t Ashton screaming at him? Why do his eyes hold kindness, rather than anger? He assumes Ashton is just trying to lure him in, trying to make him feel safe, before he starts to scream.

He chokes out an incoherent greeting, standing stock-still.

“Listen, about Saturday…”

There it is. Michael braces himself, but the yelling doesn’t come.

“I knew when I first looked at you, that you’re not okay. It isn’t that hard to tell, Michael,” Ashton says. “And I realize that you’re scared of forming friendships because many people have betrayed your trust, but I’m different. I’m not asking to be your best friend, I’m just asking you to give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?” He whispers, looking up at Ashton, wide-eyed.

“A chance to help you. A chance to be your friend.”

Michael freezes. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “Are you really going to play this game with me? Any person can take one look at you, and tell that you need someone.”

“I prefer being alone,” Michael mumbles. “I don’t need anyone. I’m perfectly fine.”

Ashton’s next words paralyze him with fear.

“Then roll up your sleeves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may seem like this is moving pretty fast, but trust me, it's not. You'll see in the next chapter. Anyways, thanks for reading, comments would be lovely. Hope you enjoyed.


	4. Chapter 4

Ashton watches the blood drain from Michael’s face.

The kid’s already pale as hell to begin with, but now he looks pasty white. The trembling has only gotten worse, as he makes obvious motions of pulling down his sleeves and shaking his head. Maybe it was too soon- but Ashton had no idea what else to do. This is the only way Michael will open up, but he may’ve rushed it a bit. 

“Hey, listen, it’s okay, you’re going to hyperventilate. You need to breathe.” He reaches out and grabs one of the other boy’s hands, feeling how clammy it is. Michael looks fearfully at him, and then down at their joined hands, almost seeming like he wants to rip his hand away. The only question in Ashton’s mind is- who the fuck hurt this boy so much? His behavior isn’t abnormal, not for someone who self-harms and has been through some pretty traumatic events, but even thinking about associating that with Michael makes Ashton sick to his stomach.

He wishes he could get out of the bed and _hug_ the red-haired boy, but the heart monitor will go crazy, if he so much as tries. He’s not that sick yet, it couldn’t hurt- but he knows that setting off the monitor will only terrify Michael even more.

“Michael, listen to me,” Ashton says, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. “I need you to relax, alright? You don’t have to roll up your sleeves, it’s okay, just please try and calm your breathing down. Try and make it match mine, okay? Just breathe, in, and out. In, and out.” He watches Michael try to calm himself down, doing his best to align their breathing. After a good five minutes, the other boy relaxes significantly, his body slumping in the chair.

“You okay now?” Ashton asks gently.

Michael winces and nods. “S-Sorry…”

“It’s alright, that was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you- it’s way too soon. I am worried, though…you just had what would’ve been a pretty bad panic attack…”

“It happens a lot,” Michael mumbles. “I’m used to it. Don’t worry about it.”

Astonished, Ashton shakes his head. “It’s giving me even _more_ reason to worry, Michael. Do you have anxiety? Are you on meds for it, if you do? This is serious.”

“Not as serious as leukemia,” Michael whispers.

Frustration fills Ashton’s body, and he clenches his teeth in order to keep from _yelling_ at the red-haired lad. It’s fucking irritating, having everyone pity you because you have cancer. He’s fine, he hasn’t even started chemo yet. Maybe next week, when he does, people can pity him then. But even so- cancer doesn’t make him any more important- hundreds of people realize they’re cursed with it each day. 

“I have leukemia, yes,” Ashton mutters through clenched teeth. “That doesn’t make me any more important than you. From the looks of it, you’re really struggling, more than me, at least. I don’t start chemo until next week, and after that, I’ll be feeling shitty. But until then- I’m on meds, I’m comfortable- and trust me, I am a lot better off than you. I have cancer, but you’re still important. Don’t forget that.”

“I tried to kill myself. That’s why I’m here.”

There it is.

Ashton’s been hoping for this boy to tell him what’s going on for the past few days, but he didn’t anticipate the ache in his chest when he does hear it. Despite only knowing Michael for three days, he’s already started to care about the red-haired, dull-eyed boy. It shocks him, how could someone so beautiful want to die? Michael doesn’t deserve that- _no one_ deserves that.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave. You probably don’t want to deal with me, and I don’t blame you.” 

Michael moves to stand, and Ashton freezes. “Fuck, no, sit down. I don’t want you to leave. I want to talk. I don’t care, that you tried to off yourself. In fact, I respect you for having the courage to say that out loud. Not many people do.”

“You don’t hate me?” Michael asks. “I just told you that I _voluntarily_ tried to end my life, while yours could end at any point in time, even if you _don’t_ want it to.”

“That’s one way of looking at it, yes,” Ashton responds. “But that mentality is also pretty selfish, don’t you think? I have no idea what your life is like- _something_ must’ve happened, something big, in order to make you want to end it forever. I don’t know what goes on in your life, what pain you have to endure, so I cannot judge you for attempting suicide. It’s not fair to you, Michael.”

“I don’t think anyone cares what’s fair to me and what’s not,” Michael mumbles. “If they did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“ _I_ care,” Ashton says firmly. He reaches for Michael’s hand again, and squeezes hard. “I care about you.”

“We’ve known each other for three days,” Michael deadpans.

“You care about your mum, don’t you?” Ashton prompts.

“Yeah…”

“You care about your mum, no matter _what_ she says or does. Because she’s your _mum_. You cared when you had only knew her for one minute, Michael.”

“I lived in her for nine months, that doesn’t count.”

Ashton sighs. “You missed my point. Okay, let’s put it this way. I have a little brother, he’s 10, and a little sister, she’s 13. The first time I got to hold them, after they were born…I fell in love instantly. I cared about them from the minute my mum placed them into my arms. And I had just known them for a minute. So, yes, yes I do care about you, even though it’s only been three days. You don’t have to like it, but I care.”

Michael nods mutely, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. He’s not much of a talker- that’s something Ashton’s noticed. He’s always instigating the conversations, Michael doesn’t seem like he wants to try and talk to anyone. It’s more of shyness than aloofness, at least, that’s what it looks like. 

…

The good news is that Ashton isn’t mad at him.

The bad news is that Ashton _knows_. 

Ashton knows about his suicide attempt- and now he’ll look at him with fake pity in his eyes and pretend he cares. Michael knows he said he did, but he highly doubts that Ashton meant it. No one cares about him. The only person who semi does is his mum, and she’s never home to begin with. He knows she’s working hard to support them, but it’d still be kinda nice to have her home when he needs her. 

As he walks into the school building the next morning, he’s sure that today is going to be exceptionally shitty. He’s not volunteering today, so that means a lot of crying and cutting after he gets home. Michael knows he deserves it, but he hates it all the same. He hates that he deserves pain- and the feeling will never cease to exist. 

“Hey, fag!”

Michael freezes at the voice. _Shit._

A large hand presses him to the wall, covering his throat so he’s gasping and choking for air. Dark brown eyes meet terrified green. He thought Adam and his cronies were done with the torture, but apparently he thought wrong. 

“Still slicing your pathetic wrists, aren’t ya, fatty?” Adam sneers, pressing down on his throat.

Michael squirms, attempting to cry for help, but to no avail. He’s starting to get light-headed and dizzy, he knows he’ll pass out if Adam doesn’t let go of him soon.

“Adam, man, you’re gonna kill him! I think he’s got the message, let him down!”

Michael’s never been more thankful for one of Adam’s friends than he is now. He breathes out a sigh of relief, as Adam’s grip loosens, and he finds himself back on the ground. Gasping for air and wincing at the ache in his throat, he keeps his head down, not wanting to be screamed at again.

“This isn’t over, you pathetic little faggot,” Adam says gruffly, forcing his head up to look him in the eye. “Don’t think I’ll take pity on you because I almost made you pass out.”

…

Michael limps up to his bedroom, doing his best to navigate through the hall, unable to see clearly through the tears in his eyes. He finally collapses onto his bed, letting tears roll down his cheeks and soak into the collar of his shirt.

Adam wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t over. Lunch was torture. They beat him, kicked him, punched him- he has a black eye, and he’s pretty sure his nose is bruised. His mum was close to forcing him to a hospital, but he managed to veer her away from that. If he’s taken to the hospital, they’ll make him take off his sweatshirt and they’ll see the cuts. 

His mum decided to take the rest of the day off, she’s downstairs making him soup. He might actually eat, just because she called in for the rest of the day, for _him_. He doesn’t deserve that much, but he knows he isn’t going to insult his mum by not eating something she’s worked hard to make for him. 

He reaches into his pillowcase for the blade, and a second thought doesn’t cross his mind, as he drags it across his skin. If nothing else, maybe bullies will kill him, and he can finally be at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

When Michael walks into Ashton’s room the next day, he stops short.

There’s another person in the room. 

Both Ashton and the other guy turn to look at him, and suddenly, Michael starts feeling small under the new guy’s gaze. He knows Ashton won’t really judge him, but he can’t be sure about the other guy. 

“Hey, Michael. This is my best mate, Luke.” Ashton’s voice is warm, as he motions to the other guy. He’s tall, taller than Michael, with quaffed blond hair and icy blue eyes. His eyes are dark, and that’s just making Michael even more nervous. He doesn’t look nearly as welcoming as Ashton, and Michael’s terrified.

“N-Nice to meet you,” Michael stutters, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “M’Michael, Ashton’s…friend…”

Luke nods warily. He lets his gaze linger on Michael for a second, before turning to Ashton and whispering something angrily in his ear. Michael can’t really decipher what he’s saying, but it has to be about him, and judging by Luke’s tone, it can’t be good. 

Ashton’s own eyes darken at Luke’s statement, and he responds in an equally angered whisper. Ashton’s mad now, what the fuck is going on? What’d he do? In the span of the day Michael hasn’t seen him, did Ashton suddenly decide that he no longer wants to associate with him?

“-don’t think he’s good for you. He’ll fuck you up again, Ash!” Michael hears Luke- the blond really should learn what whispering means- and he starts to feel tears in his eyes. He knew it all along. He shouldn’t have bothered getting attached. He’s too fucking clingy, and it always seems to happen. He always seems to get attached to someone, and then they leave.

He’s not good enough for Ashton, he’s not good enough for anyone. He’s just stupid old Michael that slits his wrists, and one day he’ll go too far and finally be six feet under. Maybe that’ll make him happy, because nothing else seems to. 

Michael turns around to leave, but Ashton calls out in protest. “Hey, where are you going? You just got here!”

“Luke doesn’t want me here,” Michael replies, forcing his voice to go louder, and refusing to turn and look at the dirty blonde. “No one wants me here. Why should I stay?”

And then- without waiting for Ashton’s answer- he walks out.

…

“What the _fuck_ did you just do?!” 

Ashton glares at Luke angrily, looking at the door peripherally. “He fucking heard you, dipshit!”

Luke rolls his eyes. “I stand by my point. He’s not good for you, Ashton. He _will_ fuck you up again, he’s going down, and he’s gonna drag you down with him.”

Ashton stares at him. He can’t even understand Luke’s logic here, and he knows Luke’s words have really hurt Michael. The worst part out of all of it is that Luke doesn’t seem one bit remorseful, when he could’ve potentially broken Michael even more. It’s not fucking fair, Luke shouldn’t be judging Michael just by his appearance. Hell, he hasn’t even said anything to the guy.

“You’re a fucking douche,” Ashton growls. “You haven’t said _anything_ to him! He’s nervous around new people as it is, and you just made everything worse for him! And that bull about him dragging me down? Shove it up your ass, he’s not going to drag me anywhere. Hell, he’s the one who’s so reluctant to be friends with me, because of all his apparent baggage. I just managed to coax him into letting me in, and you wrecked everything!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Luke says softly. He reaches up to stroke Ashton’s hair from his face, but Ashton glares, swiping his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me, I’m fucking pissed at you,” Ashton mutters. “Get the hell out.”

It’s Luke’s turn to stare. The tension in the room grows, as he seems to get angrier. “You’re picking him over _me_?! Ashton, I’ve been your best friend for almost nine years, I’ve been there through _everything_. You met this guy, what, less than a week ago?”

“He’s fucking broken, Luke!” Ashton snaps. “He tried to fucking _off himself_!”

“Yeah, and so have you!” Luke crosses his arms over his chest. “And you do remember me having to find you and call the damn ambulance, correct?” 

“That was almost two years ago,” Ashton groans, covering his face. “It doesn’t matter. I’m better now, forget about it. I want to help Michael, Luke. I don’t want him to end up as bad as I was. He deserves so much better than that.”

“You’ve been through this once, Ash,” Luke tells him solemnly. “The depression, the self-harm, the suicidal thoughts, the attempt, the anxiety attacks, you have seen it all. And I’ve been there through everything. You tried to kill yourself, and it matters so damn much. If you had died, it would’ve destroyed me. And I’m not going to lie, there were times where what you were saying and thinking would seep into me, and I’d start getting sadder and sadder. If you help Michael, you’re going to be in my place. You already have cancer, I don’t want you to have to deal with a relapse in depression on top of it.”

Ashton’s shocked, No, he’s fucking appalled that Luke won’t see his point. “Michael is broken. He needs help. Don’t you think it’d be easier for me to help him? _Me_ , knowing what it’s like?”

“One look at him, and I can already tell he cuts himself, he’s still suicidal, and he obviously has bad anxiety, from the way he was fucking shaking when he realized I’m here.” Luke sighs, face softening. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t recognize that he needs help- I do, trust me. It’s that I don’t want you getting yourself into this. I know you, Ash. You’re getting attached to him, and when you get attached to people, you start to push your own needs away for theirs, and you cannot afford to do that right now. Not when you start chemo in a few days.”

“Luke-”

“I know you mean really well, and I think it’s great that you want to help him, but I don’t want you hurting yourself in the process.” Luke looks him in the eye, gaze unwavering. “You’re my best friend, Ash…I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” Ashton promises tearfully, opening his arms. Luke hesitates for a moment, before nodding and climbing onto his lap. He lets Ashton wrap his arms around him, and buries his face in the older boy’s chest. “You won’t lose me. But I can’t let Michael go. He’s not okay, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let that go.”

…

Michael hates himself.

He hates himself for getting attached so quickly. 

He told himself that he wouldn’t get attached to Ashton like he’s done to people in the past. He knows the consequences, but it happened anyway. And now, he’s not good for Ashton, yet he wants to be hugged by the older boy more than anything. He just wants a hug, and maybe Ashton to tell him that he’ll eventually be okay.

But no, it’s all been ripped away from him, because fucking Luke doesn’t think he’s good for Ashton. Michael supposes he shouldn’t be angry at Luke, after all Luke did stop this before it got to be too toxic. He doesn’t want to hurt Ashton- the last thing he wants to do is cause Ashton any type of pain. If staying away from him is the way to do that, fine.

He just hates how fucked up he is. One look at him, and people automatically assume he’s not good for them. He hates how his appearance gives it away. He hates how fucked up he’s become, in such short time. If you asked any of his family, they’d say he was a bright, bubbly, happy kid, and now he’s a depressed, suicidal, anxiety-endowed mess.

Michael pulls the blade from the large pocket of his sweatshirt, and rolls up his left sleeve. A lone tear streams down his cheek, as he presses the blade to his skin.

He doesn’t care anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...you probably all wanna kill Luke right now, but trust me, he's got reasons for it. Anyway, thoughts? The next chapter should be up soon. Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Michael is shaking.

His hand rests on the doorknob of Ashton’s room, the object dampening underneath his sweaty palm. The shaking is incessant- almost like he’s vibrating profusely, forcefully. Any attempts to quell it are merely futile- he cannot calm down. It’s pathetic, how scared he is to face Ashton. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but anxiety heightens his every fear. It’s a horrible disorder; he hates being stuck with it. His meds never work, leaving him broken. 

“Hey, you okay?”

Michael freezes. Whirling around, he feels his heart pound much harder against his chest, as he faces Zayn. The dark-haired lad looks extremely concerned, paused in between Louis and Ashton’s rooms. 

“Michael…you look like you’re about to pass out…” Zayn says warily, taking a step toward him. “Do I need to call someone? Are you okay?”

“F-Fine,” Michael spits out, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “Just kinda tired, is all…”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Stupid question, bullshit answer. You’re not fine. You weren’t fine the first day we met you, and you’re no better. Come with me, I wanna show you something.”

Michael nods shakily, silently thanking god for Zayn. He just got him out of something that would be extremely awkward, and Michael can’t be more relieved. 

Zayn leads him through a series of corridors, until they finally come to an empty room at the back of the building. It’s got shelves surrounding the walls, full of medical supplies. There’s a big open space underneath, and Michael follows Zayn to one corner, scooting down beside the older lad.

“You and I…we aren’t that different, Michael,” Zayn says wistfully, tilting his head up to glance at the ceiling. “We really aren’t.”

“How?” Michael whispers. He’s confused as hell, but at least this place is isolated. He has the space he needs, and some time to think. Zayn doesn’t seem like the most talkative person on the planet, which is another plus. 

Zayn holds out his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his varsity jacket. Michael’s eyes widen at the amount of scars lining his wrist, all faded and scarring. 

“You…how’d you know I…I do it too?” Michael chokes out nervously. “Am I really t-that obvious…?”

“No, you’re not. But I know the signs better than a normal person, so it was easy for me to pick them out. I know you’re suffering, Michael. And I’m glad you’re going to talk to Ashton…he’s a sweet kid. He’s really a great person to talk to, in these types of situations.”

“Do you know him personally?” Michael asks incredulously. “Is he a friend of yours…?”

Zayn shakes his head. “The day he got diagnosed is the day Lou was in his accident. While Lou was in surgery, and Ashton was waiting for test results, he and I talked. He’s really sweet, if you talk to him about this, he’ll understand.”

“So you’re not going to try and “help” me?” Michael asks sarcastically. 

“You know as well as I do that people who’ve lived through it understand a lot more than people who haven’t. Ashton knows more than you think, mate. I’m here to talk if you need it, but talking to him is also really effective. He’s better at this than I am- I’ve always been quiet and reclusive, I’m really not that great at talking to people and giving advice. Ashton is amazing at it. And he knows more about this shit than you think he does.”

…

“So, you think you’ll be okay to go see Ashton now?”

Michael nods in response to Zayn’s question, forcing a smile. “T-Thank you…you really helped, more than you think. Give yourself m-more credit…”

Zayn smiles ruefully. “That’s not one of my strengths. You go see Ash, alright? I’ve gotta get back to Lou before he irritates the nurses to the point of them deciding to resign. And trust me- he can do that.” 

With a small wave, Zayn slips into Louis’ room. Michael turns to Ashton’s room, taking a deep breath, before opening the door. He steps inside, crossing his fingers and hoping for the best.

“Michael!”

Ashton looks worried and relieved at the same time- though Michael doesn’t think that’s possible. The dirty blonde beckons him over, and Michael complies shyly, trudging up to Ashton’s bedside.

“Hi,” he whispers, staring at his feet. He shifts awkwardly, not knowing what to say. It’s hard to talk to someone just as a volunteer, rather than a friend. Michael really wishes he could be Ashton’s friend, but Luke’s right. He’s not a good influence. “How are you?”

“Stop it,” Ashton says immediately. “Forget what Luke said. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m just some patient, because I know I mean more to you than that. That’s not me trying to sound conceded, but you and I…we’ve clicked, Michael. I want to be your friend.”

“Luke thinks I’ll drag you down,” Michael mumbles shamefully. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Luke is overprotective,” Ashton tells him gently. “I’ve been friends with him for almost ten years, he’s extremely overprotective of me, and wary of any newcomer. I’m the type of person to befriend anyone that looks like they’ll be a good friend…Luke is more cautious…I’ve been hurt in the past, and ever since…he’s tried to make sure the people I make friends with won’t do the same.”

“Then he made the right decision by telling you I’m a bad influence,” Michael mutters. “I’m horrible for you. I’ll end up hurting you, I know it. You better end this before you get hurt.”

“I want to help you,” Ashton says earnestly. “And I want you to have someone you can trust. I want to be someone you can vent to, someone you can call when you’re pissed, someone who you can trust to tell all of your problems to. I want to be there for you. I want you to let me help you.”

“And what happens when you can’t?”

“I’ll never stop trying.”

…

Michael sighs, flopping down onto his bed.

The shift went well afterward, Ashton introduced a conversation about bands, and it was gone from there. Talking about bands seemed to pass the time quickly, before he knew it, it was time for him to leave- and he was almost reluctant to do so. Ashton’s good company. 

“Mikey?”

Michael stiffens, lifting his head up. Green eyes meet brown, and he relaxes, as Calum steps into his room.

“Hey, Cal,” Michael mumbles. “Why’re you here so late?”

Calum smiles ruefully. “Haven’t spent that much time with you recently. I asked my mum if I could sleep over tonight, and then ride with you and your mum to school tomorrow, and she said yes. So, here I am.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Michael murmurs. “Missed you…”

“I’ve missed you too, Mikey…”

Calum comes up, wrapping his arms around Michael, and hugging him tightly. Michael relaxes against his best friend, burying his face into the crook of Calum’s neck. He feels the other boy climb onto the bed, but he refuses to look up, keeping his face buried. 

“How’s volunteering going, Mike?” Calum asks gently, as Michael pulls away. They both get under the covers, facing each other. They’ve known each other since they were little kids, been best friends ever since then. Calum became somewhat popular in middle school, and even moreso in high school, with his insane football skills, but he’s always made time for Michael.

“It’s good,” Michael whispers. “I think I…think I made a new friend…”

The way Calum’s face lights up at that is amazing, at least Michael thinks so. “That’s fucking amazing, Mikey, what’s his name? Is he a patient, or another volunteer?”

“Ashton,” Michael replies. “And he’s a patient. He has cancer…acute lymphocytic leukemia. But he told me that there’s no way he’s dying…”

“Then that’s good…” Calum says. “I think it’s awesome for you to have more friends, Mikey. You’ve always had me, but expanding a bit will do you good.”

“Cal…?” Michael asks nervously. “You look like you’re about to break some shitty news…”

Calum sighs. “I can’t get anything by you, damn…but yeah, yeah there’s something I gotta tell you…”

Michael stiffens, scooting a bit away from him. Calum looks really serious- and he has no idea what the dark-haired lad is about to say, but something tells him it won't be good. It won't be good at all. “W-What…?”

“The team really doesn’t like you, and I don’t know why, I’ve tried to tell them how amazing you are, but they don’t pay any attention…they said that I have a choice, being your friend or being on the team…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? You all probably wanna kill me...just trust me on this, next chapter is where Ashton starts to open up, so that'll be interesting... Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	7. Chapter 7

“He picked the team over me…and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, you have enough to worry about…you don’t deserve or need my shit…”

“Michael,” Ashton says firmly, looking him in the eye. “I _do not mind_. I _want_ you to tell me things, I want to _help_ you. I’m so glad you decided to come and talk to me, instead of doing something to hurt yourself. It’d make me so happy if this could happen every time, because eventually you’ll realize that you don’t need the blade to live. It may seem like you do, but you don’t.”

Michael sighs, shaking his head. After Calum told him the news…he kind of assumed who’s side Calum would take. He kicked his best friend- _former_ best friend- out, and cried himself to sleep, because _no one_ wants him or needs him or deems him important enough to stay for. Everyone leaves eventually. He should be used to it by now, but it still feels like pieces of his heart and being torn away, every time someone tells him that they’re done, they’re tired, or they’re giving up on him. 

Giving up is the easiest route to take, isn’t it? If so many people give up on him, why is he not allowed to give up on life? After all- he can’t be helped anymore- all people seem to want to do is break him, so why can’t everyone just let him die? 

“Michael?” He pulls himself out of his thoughts and raises an eyebrow at Ashton. The dirty blond smiles at him. “What’re you thinking about, mate?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Michael replies. 

Ashton looks suspicious, but he nods all the same. “So, did you hear Sleeping With Sirens’ new song?”

“Kick Me or Go Go Go?” Michael asks. “They’re both amazing, but I prefer Go Go Go…it’s catchy…”

“Same,” Ashton agrees. “What about All Time Low’s new single? Something’s Gotta Give?”

“That music video was fucking crazy.” Michael grins at the thought. “When they all turned into zombies…it was hilarious.”

“Yeah, I didn’t really understand it at first.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “It’s an All Time Low music video, who actually understands them?”

“True.”

“I’ve been really into My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy’s new album lately,” Michael says shyly. “American Beauty/American Psycho is one of their best.”

“I really like Folie à Deux and Save Rock and Roll.” Ashton reaches for his phone and goes into the music app. “Disloyal Order of the Water Buffaloes is really amazing…”

“Fuck yes,” Michael concurs. “And I also love Hum Hallelujah…basically all Fall Out Boy’s shit is amazing. I wish I could see them or All Time Low live…”

“They’re both going on tour,” Ashton says. “Why don’t you get tickets?”

Michael sighs. “Can’t afford it. My mum’s job barely supports her and me for the essentials, let alone a concert…we just don’t have the money right now…”

Ashton’s smile fades. “M’sorry, mate. You really deserve to go to those concerts…it’s obvious that All Time Low are really special to you, and I’m thinking Fall Out Boy are too…”

“It’s okay,” Michael says weakly, forcing a smile. “I’m used to it. Not having money for things, y’know?”

Ashton sighs. He knows the feeling- his dad walked out when he was young, and he had to grow up with a strict budget as well. However, after landing a job at an amazing company, his mum was offered a gigantic raise, so they’re okay now. She’s got enough to pay for his hospital bills, and enough to support the kids, so they’re okay. He just wishes he could do something for Michael.

“It’s getting late, I should go…” Michael mumbles, rising to his feet. He moves the chair back into its place against the wall, and gives Ashton a parting smile. “Today’s not my volunteering day, that’s tomorrow, but I just wanted to come talk.”

“I like having you here,” Ashton replies softly. “Come whenever you want. Except…not tomorrow, please don’t come tomorrow. I really don’t want you to see me tomorrow, please.”

…

Michael knew he wasn’t going to listen to Ashton from the moment he walked out of his room.

Obviously, something is happening tomorrow, that the blond doesn’t want him to see, and sure, it might be because it’s something leaving Ashton vulnerable, but friendship is a two-way street. Ashton was there for him today, and tomorrow, he’s going to go and be there for Ashton. He doesn’t want their friendship to turn into one where it’s all about him, and never about Ashton. That isn’t how friendship works.

“Hi, baby, did you get to talk to Ashton?”

Michael smiles at his mum as he slides into the car, nodding. “Yeah…I needed to talk to him, I’m sorry for making you bring me today, I know it’s my off day…”

“No love, I’m happy that you’re making friends and having a good time- that’s why I wanted you to do this in the first place. Friends can help you, surrounding yourself with people who love and care about you really does help,” his mum replies. “I ordered a pizza, it should be there by the time we get home.”

“Mum, you know we can’t afford to eat out all the time…” Michael says softly, staring at his feet. “You don’t have to do that for me, I’m perfectly fine with eating whatever we have at home…”

“Sweetheart, I’m the mum,” she tells him. “And I get to deal with all our finances, and that includes worrying about how much we have and whether we can eat out or not. This won’t bankrupt us, and you’re my baby, my _only_ baby. I want to make you as happy as possible, even if it’s by doing little things.”

An overwhelming feeling of warmth explodes in his stomach, something he’s never felt before. In the midst of all the chaos and pain he’s had to endure, he can’t be more thankful for a mum who understands and takes care of him, even in their struggling financial situation.

…

Michael knows exactly why Ashton didn’t want him to come. 

When he walks into the room, he stops for a second and just _stares_. 

There’s an IV in Ashton’s arm, liquid being transferred into his body. That’s not any different from the norm, but what is different, is that Ashton is sitting up, shaking profusely, sweating, and vomiting violently into a basin, while Luke is holding it steady and rubbing his back. His messy curls are damp with perspiration, and his ragged breaths give away his exhaustion clearly. 

“Oh my god…” Michael whispers. 

Luke looks up, his eyes sad and serious. “It’s the chemo, Michael. This is a side effect. He’s been having bad stomach cramps, and throwing up on and off like this for the past couple hours…”

The vomiting fit finally ceases, and Ashton lifts his head, bleary eyes focusing on Michael. “Thought I…Thought I told you…not to come…didn’t want you to…to see me like this…”

Michael shakes his head vigorously, stepping up to the other side of the bed. He grabs Ashton’s clammy hand and squeezes. “I came because I’m your friend and I care about you. You were there for me yesterday, when I needed someone, and now it’s my turn to be there for you. So I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want me here, you’re important to me and I need to be here.”

…

“I realized we haven’t really met properly.”

Michael looks up, eyes widening when he sees _Luke_ standing there. He swallows hard, feeling his heart start to speed up again. A cold sweat washes over him- the same feeling he gets every time his heart races and his anxiety starts to act up.

“You made it c-clear that y-you don’t like m-me…” Michael stutters, placing head back in his knees. “And s-shouldn’t you be with A-Ashton?”

He feels a body slide down next to him, and lifts his head to see Luke pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

“He’s sleeping. But, listen, Michael…” Luke sighs. “I don’t hate you. In fact, I think you’re a pretty cool guy. It’s just…Ashton is a very outgoing kind of person- he does things on impulse, he doesn’t think. He’s gotten himself into trouble by trusting people he shouldn’t have, and I worry about him… I’m not saying he has any reason not to trust you…it’s just- Ashton was in your place a couple years ago. He used to cut himself, and he tried to kill himself. I found him…” Luke chokes up, his voice catching in his throat. “I found him, passed out on the bathroom floor, surrounded by his own blood. He was really bad, and the fact that he was able to recover…that’s amazing, to me. I just…I don’t want that to be torn away, because helping you will remind him of his past…”

“I understand…” Michael whispers, unsure of what else to say. “I just…he’s so happy, how could he have been depressed and suicidal? It doesn’t make sense…”

“He recovered,” Luke says, smiling ruefully. “You would’ve never known, until I told you. That shows, how much recovery can do. He’s living proof that it _does_ get better.”

“He has cancer, and he doesn’t even mind that much…” Michael mutters. “I find that hard to wrap my head around…”

“He’s been through a lot, Michael,” Luke tells him. “And yeah, it’s shitty that this happened, he hates having cancer, but there’s nothing being bitter and hateful will do about it. He’s optimistic, he’s happy, and he’s going to get through this. He’s a fighter. He always has been, and he _always_ will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	8. Chapter 8

“M’sorry, won’t be very good company today…everything hurts, and I still feel nauseous.”

Michael rolls his eyes, squeezing Ashton’s hand. “Hush. You’re perfectly good company. I like spending time with you. And it’s understandable, you’re going through chemo, a bunch of chemicals are being put into your body, and making you sick.”

“When’d you become Mr. Intelligent?” Ashton grumbles irritably, turning onto his side, facing Michael. He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his teeth in agony. “Sorry if I’m pissy…I feel awful…”

“No, it’s okay, bitch at me all you want,” Michael replies honestly. He can’t believe Ashton feels the need to apologize for something like this. He has fucking cancer, he has the right to complain, and he shouldn’t feel the need to justify that. “I don’t mind, you’re more than allowed to.”

“Usually save it for Luke…”

“I’m offended!” 

Luke joins them, looking at his best friend woundedly. “So _now_ I know why I get all the bitchiness.”

“Shut up,” Ashton murmurs groggily. “You’ve been stuck with me for almost a decade, you should know me by now. I always complain to you. You’re my person…fuck, my stomach…”

“How bad do you feel?” Luke asks gently. “I brought you some water, there’s also mini pizzas down in the cafeteria, I can have Michael grab one, if you’re feeling up to it…” He looks at Ashton with so much worry in his eyes, Michael feels so bad for him. The guy is obviously trying his best to make Ashton as comfortable as possible, but there’s nothing he can do about the agony of chemo.

“No,” Ashton moans. “M’too nauseous for that. The water would be nice, though…”

“Alright,” Luke replies. “Let’s sit you up gently…”

Ashton whimpers, as Luke and Michael help him into a sitting position. It feels like he has the flu, he’s achy, exhausted, and he feels so feverish. His stomach is churning painfully, and he knows that he probably won’t keep anything down. Damn chemo. Damn it all. And this is only his first time, it can only get worse from here. And he is not fucking excited to be puking his guts up everywhere, every time he gets this stupid chemo.

Luke guides the straw to his mouth, and he sips weakly, relishing the cool water on his sore throat.

When he’s had enough, he moves away and slumps back down, closing his eyes. “Lukey…”

“Yeah, Ash?”

“It hurts…”

Luke sighs. Ashton opens his eyes to find himself staring into Luke’s. “I know it hurts, trust me, if I could take it for you, I would…but you’re getting better, remember that. This is going to help.”

“I’ve always admired your optimism,” Michael interjects, smiling at him. “Your optimism will get you through.”

“I hope,” Ashton mumbles. “I just feel like utter shit right now…”

…

“He’s always been pretty cuddly.”

Michael glances over at Luke. The blond is curled around Ashton, the ill boy’s face buried in his chest. Luke managed to get Ashton to fall asleep, which is good- if he’s sleeping, he’s not in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says. “For judging you at first glance. It’s obvious that you really care about Ash…I think it’d be good for both of you, to be friends. He doesn’t have many friends either, ironically…his boyfriend kinda…dumped him, when he found out Ash has cancer…”

Michael freezes. “He’s gay…?”

Luke nods, a certain darkness coming over his eyes. “Are you…homophobic, or something?”

“No no, of course not!” Michael says quickly. “I just…I’m gay too, and asexual. And that’s so fucking horrible…how was his ex that shallow?”

Luke relaxes, sighing in relief. “That’s awesome. And his ex was a dick. I hated him from the minute Ash announced they were dating. I was glad to see them break up, but not in that way. Ashton was a mess for days, afterward…I still don’t think he’s fully over it. And I’m bi, but Ashton and I have never considered dating…he’s my brother, I’m not in love with him.”

Michael shrugs. “You two are really close.”

“We’ve been friends since we were almost ten, it’s kinda expected,” Luke replies. “And we cuddle a lot…I’m at his house more than my own, and usually I just stay over and sleep with him in his bed.”

“You guys are pretty adorable…” Michael comments softly. “I wish I had a friend like that…”

“Ashton’s a pretty good start,” Luke tells him. “You guys already seem attached, you’ll get even closer, as time passes. He likes cuddling, he likes people hugging him, he’s a very friendly guy. You’re probably not as open, but if you feel comfortable, just let yourself get close to him…his happiness is kinda infectious. It’ll help you.”

“I feel so fucking alone…” Michael whispers. “Having him as my friend might help…I come here three times a week, anyway, and my mum said she can drop me off any other time I want…”

“Do you volunteer tomorrow?” Luke asks. “His mum and siblings are coming tomorrow, you can meet them.”

“I…I d-don’t know…” Michael chokes out, his stutter beginning to return with the nerves. He’s comfortable around people he’s talked to multiple times, but otherwise, he freezes and the nerves end up swallowing him whole. He doesn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Ashton’s family. 

“Ashton’s mum and siblings are the sweetest people ever,” Luke promises. “They’re not intimidating at all. Like, his mum is a mum to everyone she meets, she’ll fuss over you and worry about you like you’re her own. And his sister, Lauren, she’s 13, she’s quiet, but really sweet. She’s bullied a lot in school, so she’s kinda withdrawn, but she’s really nice, once you break her shell. And his brother, Harry, he’s 10. He’s the cutest little boy I’ve ever met. He’s fun-loving, crazy, and he loves Ashton so much. He idolizes Ashton, and it’s absolutely heartwarming. They’re both extremely close to their brother- Ash’s family is very close and tight-knit…ever since his father walked out on them, they’ve grown closer than ever.”

…

The room is bathed in silence, until a choked sob breaks it. 

Michael glances up immediately, looking at Ashton’s bed. Luke decided to go for dinner, so Michael promised he’d watch Ashton. The boy’s been sleeping for a while now, but it looks like he’s finally awake. 

“Ashton?” Michael asks softly, slipping his phone in his pocket, and leaning over the bed. “You okay?”

Ashton shrugs the blanket from his face, and Michael’s eyes widen. The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, his lip is quivering, and his eyes are teary and glassy. He’s definitely been crying…most likely silently, because Michael hasn’t noticed anything until now. 

“Oh god, what’s wrong? Should I call Luke? What do you need?” Michael asks quickly, feeling his heart start to race. He’s not good in tough situations, he freezes up and has no idea what to do. 

“It’s just…” Ashton whimpers. “It’s so hard, Mikey. I feel so awful, and everything hurts so much, but I feel bad complaining, because I apparently got off lucky, and it could’ve been a lot worse than this. I’m trying to stay optimistic, but it’s so hard…”

Paying no mind to his surprise over the nickname, Michael sighs and tries to comfort as best he can. “Listen, Ashton…I know it’s hard, and I know you feel like absolute shit, and it’s okay to complain. It’s okay to complain, you have every right to. You have _cancer_ , and it doesn’t matter whether it’s minor or major or any shit like that. Cancer is cancer, and cancer will never not be serious. I can’t imagine what chemo feels like, but from how bad you’ve said you felt…it can’t be good at all. We understand, it’s hard to be optimistic, you don’t have to have that mentality all the time. It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to complain, and it’s okay to feel awful. You’ve earned the right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this was kinda shitty, considering it wasn't as angsty as usual...it was hard to write. Thoughts? Did I really do shitty on this chapter? Thanks for reading, anyway, hope you enjoyed.


	9. Chapter 9

“Come tomorrow…” 

Ashton squeezes Michael’s hand tightly, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “I want you to meet my family…”

Michael nods shakily. “I-I’ll be here…”

“You’ll be fine, my mum really wants to meet you,” Ashton replies softly. “I want you to meet her. She’s going to love you, promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Michael says weakly, giving Ashton’s hand another reassuring squeeze. “My mum’s waiting outside. I have to go.”

“Bye, Mikey,” Ashton murmurs. The nickname has become customary- and Michael would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. He finds it cute, and it makes Ashton happy, so he’s definitely in support of it. 

“Bye, Ashton. Sleep well, yeah?” He gives a short wave to the older boy, before ducking out of his hospital room.

He’s ashamed to say he’s extremely attached to Ashton. The older blond has become one of his closest friends- and one of his only friends. Ashton is so sweet, so gentle, and so kind. He doesn’t judge, he has such a positive outlook on life…he’s a beautiful person. Michael really wishes he wasn’t sick- he wishes Ashton had some good luck, because up until now, it’s been pretty shitty. 

He sighs, walking the familiar route out of the hospital. Luke’s put aside his differences, and seems to accept him, so that’s also good. He wonders how the blond can even put up with him, but apparently, it’s possible.

He may not be getting much better- but having Ashton around has definitely helped him. He kinda sees what his mum means about letting people help him. Now that he’s let Ashton in, things are starting to get marginally better. He can talk to the blond about a lot, and get some damn good advice.

It’s all starting to work out, and Michael’s finally thinking that the date he set for his suicide…that date is going to be pushed back significantly. 

…

“Michael!” 

Michael doesn’t even acknowledge the voice. He knows exactly who it is, and he has no intention of talking with said person. Not after they betrayed him for a fucking sports team. Are sports really _that_ important to Calum? Are the stupid jocks on his football team more important than the best friend he’s had for over five years? Must be, because Calum chose them over him, and Michael hates it. 

“Mikey, please…” Calum catches up, falling into step beside Michael.

Michael groans inwardly, hiking up the volume on his phone, and speedwalking forward. He just wants to get away from Calum- he couldn’t hate the kid more right now. 

“Give me a chance! I just wanna talk!” Calum calls.

Michael whirls around, ripping the earbuds from his ears. He stares at his former best friend with hurt in his eyes, blinking rapidly. The panic starts, but he ignores it, letting the feeling disippate, before starting to speak. “A chance? A chance for _what_ , Calum?! I think you made it very obvious, whom you want to be friends with. And obviously, it’s the team, over me. I wasn’t surprised. No one wants to be friends with the emo loser who cuts himself.”

“Michael, you know that’s not true…” Calum whispers, reaching out to him.

Michael swats his hand away, glaring. “It isn’t?! Then why did you choose _them_ , over _me_?! They’re shallow-ass homophobic pricks that beat me up every day! I was your friend for fucking _years_! Doesn’t that mean _anything_ to you?!”

“Mikey…” Calum chokes out, and Michael can hear tears in his voice. _Good_. He deserves to suffer, for putting Michael through this torture. It’s not fair, and now Calum gets to see how bad losing someone hurts.

“Save it, Calum. I’m done.”

…

When Michael walks into Ashton’s hospital room that afternoon, he knows he can’t escape Ashton’s family.

An older woman- most likely his mum- is standing by his bedside. There’s two kids, a young boy, curled against Ashton’s chest, and an older girl, standing on the other side of the bed, holding his hand. Luke is sitting on a chair off to the side, smiling at the sight.

All heads have swiveled to him, however, and Michael can feel himself starting to crumble. His panic is taking over, the feeling creeping up his body, enveloping it in nerves, misery, and terror. He hates his. He hates how his fucking anxiety controls his life. It’s not fair- some goddamn _disorder_ has control over him.

“Mikey, c’mere,” Ashton says gently. “Come on, it’s alright. It’s just my mum and my brother and sister, everything’s okay.”

Michael shakes his head blindly, feeling tears burn at his eyes. He can’t do this. It’s too soon. He needs to get out. 

He turns around and runs.

…

“Michael!”

Michael looks up, tearstained eyes meeting bright blue. “I’m sorry, Luke…”

The blond scoots down next to him, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Why are you sorry, Mikey? You have anxiety, it’s okay. You just avoided what would’ve been a really shitty panic attack. Ashton gets it. He’s really worried about you.”

“I’m so fucking fucked up,” Michael whimpers, burying his head back in his knees. “I can’t even meet people without having a panic attack. My anxiety fucking controls me, and it _sucks_ , Luke. It fucking _sucks_.”

“I know,” Luke says gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know, you have bad anxiety, and that’s pretty shitty. One of my brothers has it, but his meds keep it under control. You can’t blame yourself for this. You tried. That’s all that matters. Ashton’s mum understands. Harry and Lauren don’t really get it, but Anne Marie understands, and she’s worried about you.”

“I don’t see why,” Michael mumbles bitterly. “I’m such a goddamn fuck up.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” Luke chides. “You’re way too hard on yourself. You _tried_. Trust me, someone with anxiety having to meet new people is terrified. And you were. But it’s all okay. Harry is too young to understand, and Lauren knows what anxiety is, but she doesn’t know how crippling it is. No one blames you. Ashton is so worried.”

Michael sighs. “I didn’t want to worry him…”

“He wants you to be okay. He cares so much, Mikey,” Luke tells him. “How about we try it again? Ashton wants to see you, and his mum knows. If you want, I can get Harry and Lauren out, I can take them to the cafeteria for a while. Would that help?”

Michael nods mutely. 

“Okay, that’s what we’ll do.”

…

Michael steps hesitantly into Ashton’s room, eyes trained on the floor. It isn’t as intimidating, only having Ashton’s mum there, but his threatening panic attack kinda made all his nerves go hyperactive. He’s scared.

“Mikey, come here…it’s okay.”

He follows Ashton’s voice blindly, until he stops in front of the ill boy’s bedside and lifts his head. Ashton is looking back at him with worried eyes. Once he’s within arms length, Ashton grabs his hand, squeezing tightly. “Are you okay?”

“I freaked. I’m sorry,” Michael whispers ashamedly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Ashton asks gently. “You couldn’t control it. You almost had a panic attack, that’s serious. You needed to get out, and I’m glad you did. You were able to calm yourself down, and I am so proud of you. We just gotta take baby steps, yeah? Ease you into it? This was too much, too soon. But my mum won’t judge you. Hell, I do stupid shit all the time, and she hasn’t judged me yet.”

Ashton’s mum rolls her eyes. “I’m a mum, mums don’t judge.” Michael turns to face her, dropping his head again. “Hey. Michael, honey, you don’t have to feel threatened by me or by Ash’s siblings, yeah? We’re all very clingy people, you’ll see soon enough. People tell me I act like a mum to everyone I met, and it’s true.”

“T-Thanks, Ms. Irwin,” Michael mumbles.

“Oh, none of that formal stuff. Just call me Anne-Marie, sweetie.”

Michael nods his head again, and Ashton’s mum continues. “I’m gonna go see what crap Luke is feeding my kids, I’ll leave you two to talk.”

“You have a kid right here, you know,” Ashton says offendedly, feigning hurt. “Or am I not your son anymore?”

“Oh shut up, Ashy,” Anne-Marie responds, playing along. “You’re too needy for my attention, always have been.”

“Love you, mum,” Ashton says, leaning up to kiss her cheek. 

“I love you too, baby.” And with that, she hurries out of the room.

“So you see?” Ashton says softly. “It’s all okay, Mikey. You don’t have to feel threatened by my mum or my siblings.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael repeats.

“Shut up,” Ashton replies. “Come here.”

He opens his arms, and Michael leans down, hugging the curly-haired boy. “You’re amazing, Mikey. Don’t doubt that. I know you may not see it, but I do, and I find you fucking amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for self-harm and depression. Be careful, guys. Don't read this chapter if it'll trigger you.

It’s been a bad day. 

Depression does that sometimes- you think it’s all fine and good, until something small happens, and everything comes crashing down. Depression can really be an ass at those times- kicks you when you’re already down, makes you feel shittier about yourself- it’s just fucking rude. When Michael’s already at a bad place and wanting to sink a blade into his flesh, he doesn’t want his mind to remind him of all the things he’s fucked up. But his mind is uncontrollable, and damn, he hates that. 

It’s unfair- that everyone else gets to walk around without their own self-proclaimed bully, while his mind is his own worst enemy. In a way, he’s fighting himself, and he’s losing every goddamn time. He always loses- whether it’s against Adam and his cronies, or his own mind and thoughts. Michael can never win. He’ll never end up having the odds in his favor- everything always seems to be against him. And just when he thinks he’s getting better, something happens, and he’s back at square fucking one.

He hates being so fucked up. It’s so damn cruel- just a minority of the population are afflicted with the horrible disorder known as depression, and they’re expected to function as well as normal people, while their disorder is eating away at them, clawing down their walls with brunt force. It’s not fair, it’s not right, and Michael _hates_ it. He hates being this way. This makes everything so much harder, and he just doesn’t know why he can’t get better.

They say that depression will never actually leave you, once you have it. Once you have it, it’s stuck with you forever, and relapse is inevitable. Relapse and recovery go hand in hand- it’s considered unusual not to want to relapse, when you’ve been through a lot of bad places and bad thoughts and bad feelings. You can never forget how that feels. 

School was fucking shitty, he’s off from the hospital today, and life just seems to have it out for him. Life just seems to want to rear its ugly head, and Michael is not ready. And now, here he is, sinking a blade into his flesh, and hating every second of it. Not the relief- that’s the reason he’s doing it, but the fact that he needs to tear open his own goddamn skin for him to feel better. That’s not normal. That’s far from normal.

Then again- when has Michael ever been anything close to normal?

…

At least he isn’t the only one having a shitty week.

The next day, he walks in on Ashton clutching his stomach and groaning in agony, and he _knows_ that the poor boy is going through another chemo session. From the looks of it, he’s alone, and Michael is confused. 

He’s confused, and he also feels a little selfish- he was hoping he could talk to Ashton and get some advice, comfort, shit like that, but it’s obvious that the boy is in no shape to give any kind of advice right now. He’s got sweat and tears streaming down his cheeks, and he’s writhing in pain.

“Ash, what can I do?” Michael asks, trying to keep his voice calm and avoid shaking. “How can I help?”

“B-Bin,” Ashton chokes out, dry-heaving a bit. He claps a hand over his mouth and looks desperately at Michael, who grabs a bin from the shelf above them. He slides it onto Ashton’s lap, and holds it there with his right arm, using his left to support Ashton’s back, as the ill boy starts to vomit.

“Shit…” Michael mutters, as a violent heave shakes Ashton. “Try and calm down.” He has no idea what he’s saying, or whether it’s even slightly calming, but it seems to work. Ashton finally stops throwing up, flopping back against his pillows. 

“Sorry…” Ashton says weakly, as Michael sets the bin down, handing him a towel to wipe his face off.

“Why are you sorry? It’s the chemo,” Michael replies, pulling a chair to the side of the bed. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“Sorry you had to see me like that,” Ashton amends, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I hate this. It’s fucking up with my immune system, so I feel like absolute shit all the time. And Harry got the flu yesterday, so neither he nor my mum or sister can come and see me. Harry’s sick, and my mum and sister have been exposed to him, if they come here, I could get sick, and my immune system is so shot right now, it could turn really serious.”

Well Michael feels guiltier than ever, hearing that. Ashton’s going through living hell right now, and he was just about to start complaining about his stupid depression. His depression is nothing compared to cancer. He has it a lot better than Ashton right now, he should be fucking grateful.

“Mikey?” 

He looks up, blinking at Ashton. “Sorry, got lost in thought…”

“You okay?” Ashton croaks. “Did you wanna talk?”

“No, mate,” Michael lies easily. He puts a hand on Ashton’s shoulder. “You just focus on getting better, yeah? I’m okay. It’s time to worry about you- you need it.”

…

This is the deepest he’s cut- excluding the cut he made to try and end it all.

He knows how deep he can go, and he’s there, not even caring how much blood is pouring out of his forearm, Towel after towel is pressed to the cut, the bleeding eventually starting to slow. He knows he won’t land himself in the hospital with something like this. He knows the ins and outs of all of this- it’s scary to think how much experience he’s had.

He’s just in guilt hell- it’s not fair of him to complain to Ashton, when the boy is going through long and hard chemo. It’s not fair, and Michael hates how selfish he is. He doesn’t think about anyone but himself- another of his fatal flaws. All he cares about is getting better- but depression is no where as serious as cancer. Ashton has it so much worse.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Michael glances up, his eyes widening. 

“You can’t smoke in a fucking hospital!”

Zayn rolls his eyes, putting the cigarette out quickly. “Relax, I was almost done anyway. What the hell are you doing?”

Michael glances down at his arm, glances down at the deep red scratches he’s making. “I didn’t even feel them…”

“But that doesn’t make it any less serious,” Zayn chides. “You’re still hurting yourself. At that rate, you’ll actually tear your skin. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Michael looks down sheepishly, not knowing how to answer that. Either lying, or sounding like a crazy, mental, fucked up person. He already is the latter, but he doesn’t want to sound like it. 

“Blood is relief. You find physical pain to be relieving, because it distracts you from the mental onslaught. The fresh cuts from a sick pattern and look attractive, to you. You want to make more, because you’re so mesmerized by them. And you know you could kill yourself, you just don’t care,” Zayn mutters. “Did I get it right?”

“How did you…” Michael trails off, staring at him in shock.

“You seem to forget that I did it too,” Zayn replies. “I know the feeling, Michael. And I know how relieving it is to you right now, but I’m telling you that you need to stop. Not because I want to torture you, but because you’ll eventually go too deep. And you won’t even realize it.”

“I’ve gone too deep before. I’ve tried to off myself before. I know exactly how far is too deep, and I’ve stayed away from going that far. I’m not trying to land myself in this damn hospital, Zayn.”

“You will, if you keep doing what you’re doing,” Zayn mumbles.

“What do you care? Everyone will be glad to see me gone,” Michael says bitterly. 

“What about Ashton?” Zayn says immediately. “What about that happy, giggling boy about two rooms away from us? What about that boy, who has an absolute heart of gold? What about him, knowing he’s been trying to help you and doing his best to judge when you’re in pain? I know for a fact that you’ve lied to him and told him you’re fine when you aren’t. How the hell do you think he’ll react, when he finds out that you’ve been doing this to yourself, and he wasn’t able to prevent it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took a while to update, I've been busy with school. Hopefully I'll have more time in the next week or so, because you'll hate me for where this ends.

“You can’t see him right now, Michael.”

Michael stares at Luke, aghast. “What the hell do you mean I can’t see him?! If this is about him not wanting to see him vulnerable, bull. I don’t care about that, none of it matters to me. He’s my friend, and I want to see him!”

Luke sighs. “It’s not that. He’s really not doing well right now, Mike. He can’t keep anything down. They’re thinking about sedating him and putting a feeding tube in, because at this point, he can’t even keep water down. He’s been throwing up all day, he’s miserable, and he doesn’t want to see anyone. I’m just respecting his wishes.”

Michael feels his heart clench with pain. It’s not fair. Ashton is such a beautiful person- he doesn’t deserve all of that. He doesn’t deserve to be this miserable. From what Michael’s gathered, the older boy’s life has already been pretty shit, and he still doesn’t have luck on his side. Ashton is such a good person, and this is such a shitty thing that’s happening to him. He really doesn’t deserve it, and Michael hates that he has to go through it. It’s not fair, and he’d take Ashton’s place in a minute, if he had the option to. He deserves pain, but Ashton…Ashton deserves life, and love, and beauty…everything he is.

“I don’t mind seeing him like this…I mean, I don’t care that he looks like shit, it doesn’t matter.”

“What part of _he doesn’t want to see you_ do you not get?!” Luke raises his voice and Michael visibly flinches, panic starting to seep into his body. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, but Luke’s mad at him, he fucked up again, and he just needs to stop.

“I’m s-s-sorry!” Michael chokes out. He whirls around, hearing Luke call for him, but ignoring it as he rushes away, down the hall and out of the hospital as fast as humanely possible. 

…

Ashton doesn’t want to see him.

Luke yelled at him.

Calum’s gone.

Michael can’t do this anymore.

He runs the blade down his wrist dizzily, splitting healing scars and not caring how much more it hurts. Everything hurts, and he just hates himself even more. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but everyone seems to be against him. Adam and his friends have just gotten significantly more vicious, Calum has stopped trying to be his friend, and Michael just hates how much he’s fucked up his life.

 _He_ drove Calum away. Calum wanted to try and make amends, he wanted to try and fix their friendship, but Michael wouldn’t let him. He _needs_ Calum, he needs his best friend. He needs him like Ashton needs Luke, but Calum’s gone and he’s not coming back and Michael is so _alone_. 

And he only has himself to blame for it. 

If he wasn’t so _stupid_ , maybe Calum would be here, maybe Calum would be next to him, and he wouldn’t be cutting right now. Maybe he’d be crying and telling Calum everything, and that’s a hell of a lot better than hurting himself, to a normal person. To Michael, he doesn’t want to burden Calum, so he’d keep it in and cut anyway. Michael doesn’t like telling people things, because then they worry and spend time making sure he’s okay and he doesn’t need that, he doesn’t _deserve_ that. He doesn’t deserve their compassion and worry. 

He’s a goddamn burden to the world.

It’s not fair for Ashton to have to keep worrying about him, when he has cancer. It’s not fair for Luke to have to deal with him, when his best friend is miserable and in pain. It’s not fair for Calum to have to sacrifice sports scholarships and being nationally scouted, just to be his friend. 

It’s not worth it. 

_He’s_ not worth it. 

He’s not worth the worry, the frustration, the pain. There are people out there suffering so much more than he is, and here he is, getting so frustrated about little things. He’s already said too much to Ashton, he’s already burdened him enough with his goddamn problems. Michael just doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

He thinks back to an old friend he had, the old friend that left him to be popular. He remembers telling him everything, and then remembers being told to “stop being so depressed all the time”. He remembers being told that he wrecked everyone’s moods with his depressing moods, and it wasn’t fair. That’s when he started keeping everything inside. No one needs his shit. No one needs _him._

His mum would be able to have the life she’s always wanted, not work all the time just to put food on the table. He’s put her through so much, with his suicide attempt, the times he doesn’t eat, everything. He’s put her through so fucking much, and he knows that raising a kid like him is a lot more work than normal. His mum shouldn’t have to do that. She’s a good mum, and a good person. She doesn’t deserve a broken kid.

If he was gone, everything would be _so_ much easier. 

If he was gone, people could move on with their lives and not worry about him, but that isn’t the case. That just isn’t the case, and god fucking dammit, he wishes he would’ve died when he tried last time. He wishes he was six feet under, because death is so much better than living in the most indescribable agony he’s ever experienced.

Death may be the easy way out- suicide may be cowardly to some, but to the people suffering from so much depression and sadness, it’s their only way out. It’s his only hope, because everything is gone, crumbled and shattered, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He’s trying his best to stay away from Ashton- he doesn’t want to hurt him more, he’s already done enough. But Michael’s come to a shocking realization, one that’s chipping away at him, hauling pieces of his heart away in buckets.

He might be in love with Ashton.

He might have let himself get so attached, he’s fallen in love with the beautiful boy with the curls and warm eyes. 

If he dies, he’ll be doing Ashton a favor. 

He’ll be doing everyone a favor. 

…

“Feeling better?” 

Ashton nods, squeezing Luke’s hand tightly. “Whatever they gave me fucking _worked_. I don’t feel nauseous anymore.”

“Doctor Altman prescribed you some anti-nausea meds that you should take as soon as you start the chemo, that way you’ll be good throughout,” Luke replies. He leans in and kisses Ashton’s forehead. “You scared me, though.”

“M’good,” Ashton murmurs. “Thank you for staying with me. You can call Mikey and tell him to come back.”

Luke sighs. “I think I scared him…” Ashton raises an eyebrow, and he shakes his head. “Earlier, he came and wanted to see you and I told him no, but he was persistent. And then I heard you start throwing up, so I kinda snapped at him…he looked so scared of me…”

Ashton stiffens. “Fuck, Luke…you know he has bad anxiety, you _need_ to be gentle with him. He’s really scared about what people think.”

Just as Ashton finishes his sentence, the door to his room opens. A woman steps inside, swiping at tearstained cheeks. She flashes them a weak, watery smile.

“Um…who are you?” Luke asks warily, clutching tighter to Ashton’s hand.

“My name is Karen, I’m Michael’s mum,” she says, her voice hoarse with tears. “You’re Ashton, right?”

“That’s me,” Ashton speaks up. “Is something wrong? Is he okay?”

Michael’s mum sighs. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…Michael tried to kill himself less than an hour ago.”


	12. Chapter 12

Ashton’s body completely tenses. 

Luke feels him stiffen in his hold, the older boy focused on Michael’s mother. Painful guilt and regret are seeping into his stomach, making him almost nauseous. Michael really didn’t look that great, when he came by earlier. And all Luke did was brush him off, and he even…he _yelled_ at him, and he saw Michael flinch, he saw how scared the younger boy was. He saw it, and he didn’t go after him. That incident must’ve been the straw to break the camel’s back, and Luke is so guilty. 

“What happened?” Ashton whispers, trying to keep his voice steady. 

Michael’s mum sighs, looking at them sadly. “I got home from work about 45 minutes ago, and I called for him, but he didn’t answer. I waited four a couple minutes, and still nothing. So, I went up to his room, and he was lying on the floor, both wrists bleeding, and an empty bottle of pills next to him…” She chokes on a sob, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. But, I called for an ambulance, they were there within five minutes, and they rushed him to the ER. He’s in surgery right now. I just thought you’d want to know…Michael spoke very fondly of you, Ashton. He always seems to light up, when talking about you…”

Ashton’s breathing grows heavy, and Luke can feel his heart start to race. “Ash…” He cautions, glancing at the heart monitor. “Your heart monitor’s gonna go crazy, if you don’t calm down…”

“He tried to fucking _kill_ himself, Luke!” Ashton cries, finally looking at him for the first time, since hearing the news. Luke’s heart breaks at the sight of his best friend’s face. Ashton is already crying. His eyes are reddening, and there are tears on his cheeks. “He wanted to die…and I didn’t see it. I didn’t want him to visit. This is all my fucking _fault_!”

A loud series of beeps is heard, and Luke winces. “Ash, please. You’re working yourself up, and you can’t do that.”

Ashton doesn’t listen, and the monitor gets even louder. He’s crying fiercely into his hands, trying to conceal his sobs, but to no avail. 

Michael’s mother is staring at them, wide-eyed and worried. “…is something wrong…?”

“It’s his heart monitor- he’s working himself up, it’s not good for his heart,” Luke explains, as he tries to force Ashton to look at him. “Ash, babe, please. You gotta calm down for me.”

A hand flies out and swats at Luke’s face, and the blond sits back, startled by the sudden movement. Ashton brings his arm back in, curling into himself bringing his knees up to his chest. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

Luke looks up, sighing in relief. “Doctor Altman. Thank god. He’s…we were just told something really alarming, and he’s really upset…”

Doctor Altman glances at Michael’s mother. “You’re Michael Clifford’s mum, correct?” 

She nods in affirmation, leaving the doctor to sigh. “I know exactly what happened, one of my friends, Doctor Grey, is working on Michael right now. I assume you told Ashton what happened, and that’s why he’s like this?”

“Yeah…” Luke replies. 

“Ashton, sweetheart,” Doctor Altman says gently, stepping up to the blond’s bedside. She glances at the numbers on the monitor, her eyes widening slightly. “Sweetie, you need to calm down, alright? I know you’re upset, but your body is weak right now. Your immune system is shot. You can’t have a panic attack right now, you really can’t.”

Ashton shakes his head, curling tighter into himself. His sobs only grow, and she sighs. “I hate to have to do this, but Ashton, if you can’t calm down for me, I’m going to have to sedate you, and put you to sleep. Continuing on like this is only going to hurt you, you need to try and calm down.”

Those words seem to elicit a reaction, because Ashton finally lifts his head, swallowing hard, starting to breathe normally. His face is red and blotchy, and his cheeks are tearstained. His eyes are glassy- he’s a mess. 

“That’s it, there we go,” Doctor Altman encourages. “That’s good.” They watch the heart monitor finally go back to normal, and then she sighs. “There you are. Now, I can let you get out of bed and visit Michael after he’s out of surgery- in a wheelchair- but you have to promise me no more freak outs, alright?”

Ashton nods sheepishly, wiping his face with his arm. “I’m s-sorry…I just…”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Doctor Altman says gently. “Just be careful, alright? You’re still recovering, wouldn’t wanna make it any worse, now would we? Relax and try to breathe, I’ll let you know when you can visit Michael.”

She smiles again, before ducking out of the room, Michael’s mum following shyly. Luke turns back to Ashton, brushing his sweat-soaked hair from his face. “You worked yourself up into a right state, eh?” He jokes weakly.

“This is all my fault,” Ashton sighs, his voice hoarse. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

“I was the one who sent him away,” Luke mumbles. “Hell, I _yelled_ at him this morning. I probably pushed him over the edge.”

“You wouldn’t have had to yell, if I could’ve just gotten over my fucking stupid self and allowed him to see me.”

“Don’t say that,” Luke murmurs. “You’re tired. Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll wake you when there’s news on Michael.”

“M’good,” Ashton replies, trying desperately to suppress a yawn, but failing. 

“You’re not, Ash,” Luke chides gently. “Sleep. You’ll be well-rested, when we go and see Mikey.”

“I can’t sleep, knowing he’s in surgery, because of _me_ …” Ashton whispers. “I can’t even think about it without becoming sick to my stomach…”

“It’s _not_ because of you,” Luke says firmly. “You have done _nothing_ wrong. You’re going through chemo, you were puking. If anything, it’s my fault for yelling. He didn’t deserve that. I should’ve been more gentle about it- that’s the most effective way to get to him.”

“Lay with me?” Ashton asks softly. “Hold me?” He scoots over in bed, making space for the blond, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. 

“Of course.” Luke slides into bed next to him, pulling the older boy’s weak body into his arms. Ashton latches onto him, hiding his face in his shoulder, and wrapping his arms around his back. “You good?”

Ashton nods against him, starting to go lax. “I just wanna see him, just wanna tell him m’sorry…”

“You’ll get to, Ash.” Luke rubs his back gently. “Even though you have nothing to apologize for.”

Ashton says nothing, already sleeping against him.

…

“He’ll be okay, right?” 

Ashton glances at Luke fearfully, squeezing his best friend’s hand. “He has to be okay.”

“He’ll be fine, Ash,” Luke promises. “He’s strong, he’ll make it. Everything is going to be fine. He does need help, though, and I’m assuming you want to be the primary source?”

Ashton nods. “It’s just…I want the chance to help him. He needs it, I want to be able to give it to him. I want to make him feel loved, needed, cherished…”

“Ash…” Luke says cautiously. “Are you…are you in love with Michael…?”

Ashton blushes. “Not _in love_ , per say…I just really like him a lot, and I wouldn’t mind being his boyfriend.”

Luke goes silent, and Ashton feels alarm spark in his chest. What if Luke doesn’t approve? He doesn’t think he can be with Michael, if his best friend doesn’t support them. Luke’s been with him through everything, he needs to support this as well.

Doctor Altman comes into the room, and Ashton immediately turns his attention to her. “How’s Mikey?”

“Michael’s in recovery- he had to have his stomach pumped. The cuts were stitched, but he lost a lot of blood…they’re transfusing him, he needs to get it all back. They also found a lot of cuts on his arms, fresh ones, or two day old ones. His arms are covered entirely. He’s pretty thin, they’ve got him on a feeding tube- just to make sure he’s nourished. He’s gonna be just fine, but his mental state…no one knows how that’ll fair out. We’ll only know when he wakes up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 13

“Whoa, easy. You haven’t been up in weeks.”

Ashton sighs, as Luke and Doctor Altman carefully help him lower himself down into the wheelchair. He’s dizzy, weak, and uncomfortable, but nothing will stop him from going to see Michael. The red-haired boy should be waking up anytime soon, and he wants to be there when that happens. 

“You okay?” Luke asks gently. “Do you want a pillow or anything to support your back?”

“I’m good,” Ashton mutters tightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can we just go?”

“Not so fast,” Doctor Altman says apologetically. “There’s some things we need to talk about, before you go anywhere.”

Ashton groans. “Fucking hell. M’not in the mood for this.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make it quick,” she promises. She comes around to stand in front of him, crouching so he can be eye level with her. “You’ve being taken off all the machines- that includes the catheter…you know what that means, right?” Ashton nods uncomfortably, and he _knows_ he’s gone red. “Since you’re off everything, you have to keep the visit pretty short. There are a lot of germs floating around in this hospital, and if you get sick, it’ll be absolutely agonizing to recover from.”

“We’ve been over this,” Ashton reminds her impatiently. “I know what I can and can’t do. I just wanna go see Mikey.”

Doctor Altman smiles at him. “Alright, I’ll let Luke take you down. If you feel like you’re getting tired or winded, tell Luke to bring you back. When Michael gets a little stronger, he can come down and visit you, and it’ll be a lot easier. He just lost a lot of blood, so they’ve still got him on a blood bag- he’ll be pretty weak for a while.”

Ashton nods silently, crossing his arms over his chest. He ducks his head down, obviously finished with the conversation. Doctor Altman laughs, nodding to Luke. “Go ahead and take him down. Just watch, make sure he’s not overexerting himself too much.”

Luke gives a soft affirmative, before expertly turning the wheelchair around, and pushing Ashton out of the room. Once into the hallway, the cancer-ridden boy starts to look a little more like himself.

“I haven’t been outside the room in so long…” Ashton murmurs. “It’s so boring in there…even though I’m not getting out for a good reason, so to speak, it’s nice to be out of the room.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Luke replies, pushing him down into the ICU hallway.

“Wait!” Ashton calls. “…he’s in the ICU?”

Luke sighs. “He lost a lot of blood, Ash…his mum said he lost almost a third of what’s in his body…he was on the floor for a while. And if they’d been a few minutes later, the blood loss combined with the overdose would’ve killed him. His body’s been through so much…they’re keeping him in here for a day or so, to monitor him closely, and then he’ll be moved to a regular room for a while, before he’s discharged.”

“Don’t mention my cancer,” Ashton tells him firmly. “None of it. Michael is important right now, and I do _not_ want him feeling like what he did isn’t as important. Forget I have cancer for the visit, alright? It’s about Michael, and knowing him, he’ll already be feeling so fucking guilty, I am not making this any worse for him.”

…

He’s not sure what’s going on, but one thing’s for sure- everything hurts.

He feels- honestly- like utter shit. Everything aches, and he feels nauseous and dizzy, like he’ll hurl in two seconds flat. The weight of opening his eyes is actually straining, and he knows that’s a sign that he’s really weak. 

_What the fuck happened?_

Finally blinking his eyes open, he realizes where he is. The continuous beeping, the white walls, and antiseptic smell… _hospital._

It didn’t work.

Again.

Disappointment and frustration flow through him, anger at the fact that he can’t even _die._ He can’t even _kill himself_. Another thing to add to the list of things he can’t do right. God, he fucking hates himself. He wishes he could just _die_ , just be _done_ with this shitty world and all of its bullshit. 

“Mikey? Can you hear me?”

Freeze.

That can’t be…he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than his own, almost. He knows _exactly_ who that voice belongs to- he just can’t believe the owner is actually here.

He didn’t think he was _this_ important. 

Michael turns his head to the right, and locks eyes with Ashton. The older boy is sitting in a wheelchair beside his bed, clutching tightly to his right hand. Michael doesn’t know why he’s here- he isn’t worth Ashton’s time. 

“H-Hi…” he whispers, surprised at how hoarse his voice is, and how damn _painful_ it is to talk. Everything hurts. 

“Oh god, I was so worried!” Ashton exclaims, squeezing his hand tightly. “I was so fucking worried, Mikey…don’t you _dare_ try something like that again.”

Michael’s gaze shifts down to his heavily bandaged wrists, and he sighs. “Dunno why you won’t just let me go…”

“Because I don’t want you to go,” Ashton says firmly. “I want you _here._ I want you _alive._ ”

“All my life…I’ve ignored what I want, to satisfy and do whatever everyone else wants,” Michael says softly. “The one time…the _one_ time I want to be selfish, and I can’t even get that…”

“Listen to me,” Ashton replies gently. “Look at me.” Once Michael’s gaze is on him, he continues. “You get to be selfish, Mikey. But you don’t get to kill yourself, that’s not part of the equation. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

“I don’t…” Michael struggles for the words, racking his hazy mind for the correct ones. “I don’t know why you’re here…I’m not important…I’m broken and stupid and an absolute _wreck_.” 

Ashton squeezes his hand tighter. “Hey,” he whispers, and Michael can see tears in hazel eyes. Fucking hell. He didn’t mean to make Ashton cry. He’s such a fucking dick, why is he so stupid? “Mikey, hey, focus on me. Leave your thoughts alone. They don’t matter. Listen to me. You’re not stupid. You’re not broken. And you are most _definitely_ not an absolute wreck. You’re beautiful.”

Michael seriously thinks he’s dead. 

Ashton _cannot_ be calling him beautiful. He’s _not_ beautiful. _Ashton_ is beautiful. He’s nothing of the sort, he’s _disgusting_ , and _ugly_ , and an _abomination._

He’s choking himself up, sobs catching in his throat and begging to be released. He doesn’t know why he’s showing this much emotion, it’s so stupid, he’s so stupid.

“Mikey, baby, calm down. You’re okay, calm down. I’m here.”

He barely registers Ashton’s voice, and when he does, he chokes a garbled reply. “M’not…m’not your baby…”

Ashton chuckles. “Shhhh, we’ll talk about that later. Do you want me to get in with you?”

Michael looks up at him in shock. “You…you can’t…your cancer…”

Ashton rolls his eyes. “I’m well enough to be here, aren’t I? So I must be well enough to get into bed with you and hold you.”

“S’okay, you don’t need to…”

Luke is already helping Ashton into the bed, and Michael can’t complain, as the dirty blond molds into the small space he has. He pulls Michael’s body into his arms, and Michael nuzzles his head into Ashton’s warm chest, sighing. “See?” Ashton murmurs. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I feel so bad, Ashton…” Michael whimpers. “Everything hurts…”

“I know it does,” Ashton says gently. “The pills did a number to your system, and you’re really weak from blood loss. But you’re going to be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael whispers chokingly, trying so hard to rein his tears in. 

“I do.” He feels Ashton start to rub his back with one hand, carding the other through his sweaty red locks. “I do. You’re gonna be okay, babe. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. I’m so sorry I didn’t know, but I know now, and I’m never leaving you. You’re going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I'm thinking this story will have around 20 chapters, and I'm already thinking about the next story. I'll give you more info in the coming chapters, but you guys do get to vote on endgame couples again, so there's that to look forward to. Thanks for reading- I hope you enjoyed.


	14. Chapter 14

Michael wakes alone.

He glances around the room, alarmed, his thoughts all discombobulated. Where’s Ashton? He could’ve sworn he fell asleep in the older boy’s arms…or was that a dream? His mind is so hazy, he just doesn’t know what’s reality and what’s fantasy anymore, the entire realm of things is so confusing.

“Mikey, baby, you’re alright.”

He glances up, relaxing when he sees his mum. “S-Sorry…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmurs, coming up to his bedside. Leaning down, she brushes hair from his face and kisses his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Michael mutters bluntly. His mum’s facial expression saddens, and he sighs. “I’m really sorry, mum…I know this is hard, and I didn’t want you to have to deal with it…that’s one of the reasons I tried…I thought that you’d want to live a life without having to care for a fuck up, burden of a son.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no…” Karen whispers. She sits down on the bed, pulling him into her arms, holding him close. “Don’t _ever_ say something like that. You’re anything _but_ a burden. You’re a gift to the world, and I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry, mummy…” Michael whimpers. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…why am I like this…?”

“We’re gonna get you help, sweetheart,” she replies, a few tears soaking into his red hair. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want rehab…” Michael chokes on a sob, lifting his head up to look at her. “I want to stay here, I want you, and Ashton, and Luke, and Cal…”

“I’m not going to send you away, baby,” she promises. “I would never send you away, you’re my baby. You’re my only child, Michael. I love you more than anything. You’re not going anywhere. And I’m taking a few weeks off, from now on, all my time and attention is going to be devoted to you. You need me right now.”

Michael stares at her, wide-eyed. “But…you need money, for food…”

She smiles. “We’re okay, for now. I’ve been saving, and I finally managed to get your rat bastard of a father to start paying child support. We’re okay, I can take a couple weeks off. My boss is really sympathetic- she’s offered to give me a paid vacation, because you’re more important than work.”

“No, m’not…” Michael mutters. “M’not.”

“Michael…” He hates how sad he’s making his mum, but she did say to be honest with her, and that’s what he’s trying to do. He just hates seeing her cry, it’s not fair, she doesn’t deserve to. 

“I’m sorry…” 

She says nothing, hugging him tighter, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. Michael sighs, cuddling further into his mum. He may be 17, but he’ll never be able to get over the feeling of a mother’s love- it makes him feel so warm inside, he loves it. 

…

“Who are you?”

Calum whirls around, catching sight of a tall blond, about to reach for the same doorknob he’s reaching for. 

“I’m Calum, Michael’s best friend…” he says lowly, looking at the other guy warily. “Who are you?”

“Oh, now I know who you are. Michael’s mentioned you. I’m Luke, I’m Ashton’s best friend, and one of Michael’s friends,” Luke replies. Calum opens his mouth to reply, but Luke cuts him off. “You’re the dick that abandoned Mikey for the footie team, aren’t you? He told us.”

Calum sighs, his heart aching. “I…yeah, yeah I did, but he wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him why…I haven’t had the chance to explain myself, he won’t let me…” He swallows hard. “Mikey’s my best friend, he’s been with me through everything, and I’ll never be able to express how sorry I am for hurting him. I just want to go see him, do you mind?”

Luke nods. “Just…don’t hurt him. He’s already been hurt enough, and when I saw him earlier, he looked so fragile and broken.”

Calum swallows the lump in his throat. “Trust me, I won’t.”

…

Michael’s startled out of thought, to the door opening. 

He’s even more startled at the person who _enters_ the room. 

“C-Cal?”

“Hi, Mikey,” Calum says softly, shutting the door behind him. He comes up to the side of the bed, glancing at Michael worriedly. “I was so worried…how are you doing?”

“You didn’t seem to worry about me when you left me for the team,” Michael mumbles, looking down at his lap.

Calum sighs. “I’m so fucking sorry, Mikey…I just…I need to get a footie scholarship. My dad, he…he lost his job, and my parents are worried that they won’t be able to pay for my tuition. I need to get a scholarship…I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have done it, if I’d had the choice. And I went to coach and talked to him, and he agreed to make sure I wouldn’t get kicked off, and have a serious talk with the rest of the team. I’m so, so sorry…” He swallows hard, and Michael looks up at him, heart breaking at how guilty Calum looks.

“It’s…It’s okay, Cal…” Michael whispers. “It’s okay.”

Calum looks at him in disbelief. “It isn’t okay, Mikey. I hurt you, and I hurt you bad. You don’t have to forgive me.”

“Stop beating yourself up,” Michael replies. “Come here and hug me.”

Calum leans down and wraps his arms around Michael, holding him, but being quite gentle. Michael rolls his eyes, hugging Calum back, tightening his arms around his best friend. He pulls the tanned boy down, so he stumbles and falls down on the bed, smiling in relief.

“There we go, now you can hug properly,” Michael chides. “I missed you, Cal.”

“Missed you too, Mikey…” Calum whispers. His voice cracks, and Michael pulls back in alarm.

“You okay?” He asks gently. Calum stares at him, and Michael watches tears fill the black-haired boy’s eyes. 

“How can you ask me if I’m okay, when you’re lying in a hospital bed, after trying to _kill_ yourself?!” Calum cries, and Michael can hear the pain in his voice. Fuck.

“I’ll be okay,” he replies, lying for Calum’s benefit. He doesn’t want to scare the boy even more, so he plasters on a fake smile and pushes the depressing thoughts to the side.

…

“Hey, you.”

Michael looks up, smiling as he sees Luke park Ashton’s wheelchair in front of him. “Hi, Ash.”

“How’re you feeling?” Ashton asks, standing on shaky legs, and getting into bed next to him. “I’ve been kinda tired and feeling crappy today, I hope you don’t mind if I lay with you…”

“Of course not, there’s more than enough room,” Michael invites, pulling Ashton’s body a little closer, away from the edge of the bed. “You good?”

Luke smiles at the pair. “I’m gonna go, I have shit to do. I’ll be back, Ash, text me when you’re ready to go back.”

Ashton nods. “Thanks, Lukey.” The blond leaves the room, and Ashton turns back to the red-haired boy, looking him up and down.

“You look a little better than before, Mike,” he observes. 

“I had a little cry with my mum, and then me and Cal made up,” Michael recounts. “So, I guess it was an eventful day… I’m being discharged tomorrow, and then we’re going to talk about where to go from here, with recovery and shit…”

“Are you planning to go to rehab?” Ashton asks quietly. 

Michael shakes his head. “No. No way in hell. My mum doesn’t want to send my away, I’m all she has…we’re going to do outpatient therapy, probably…but I want you involved, if you still want to be…” He looks down at his lap, embarrassed. “You make me happy, Ash. You make me feel like I’m okay and it’s okay to feel like shit sometimes and you help me believe that there’s hope…”

He glances at Ashton, sighing in relief at the large smile blossoming on his face. “Of course, I’d be honored, Mikey. If you can work around my chemo sessions, I’d be honored to help you. I really want you to get better, you mean so much to me…”

“I-I do…?” Michael asks hesitantly, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t…I didn’t think…”

“You mean so much to me,” Ashton repeats. “I really like you, Mikey. The gay way.”

Michael stares.

How can Ashton like him? _Him_? Ashton is just perfect, beautiful in every way possible, and he’s just _there_ , average, broken, a mess…why would Ashton ever want someone like him? It makes no sense. He can’t deny that he likes Ashton back, but he doesn’t know how Ashton’s managed to fall for someone like him. 

“I…I like you too…” Michael whispers, almost inaudible. “But I don’t…I don’t understand…why would you like someone like me? I’m a mess…”

“You really need to stop thinking of yourself so derogatorily. You’re amazing, Mikey. You think you’re broken and a mess and shit, but I think you’re beautiful, and absolutely perfect,” Ashton replies, smiling at him.

Michael can feel himself blushing, cheeks going flaming red at Ashton’s compliments. 

“What do you say, we try?” Ashton suggests. “Being boyfriends. We’ll try, for a couple weeks, and if it works, great. If not, we’ll be okay. Would that be okay…?”

“I’d…I’d like that…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this, I spent time on it. I'd love to know what you thought, now that Mashton are starting to test the waters. Anyway, I do have a question for you. 
> 
> My next story will definitely be another AU, and there's two that I've been considering. 
> 
> The first is a Hogwarts AU, I haven't really planned it out yet, but there's that. 
> 
> The second is a sports AU, most likely ice hockey, where all four of them are on the team, with steady girlfriends, but they're starting to finally figure themselves out, and realizing they might be gay/bi, at a school that's very homophobic
> 
> I'm leaning toward the sports AU right now, mainly because I've already got it all developed, and I have an idea of how I want it to go. The Hogwarts one popped into my head _today_ , so I haven't figured out the logistics of how it'll work, yet. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, again, and votes would be appreciated.


	15. Chapter 15

“I’d like to discuss your options, Michael. I know we already discussed outpatient therapy, but there’s some more things I’d like to talk about, and a few questions I really would like to have answered.”

Michael squeezes Ashton’s hand tightly, leaning closer to his boyfriend. Ashton gives him a reassuring smile and pecks his forehead gently. Michael’s mum, who’s sitting on a chair over to the side, gives the couple a small smile. She’s really very happy for them- then again, if Michael is happy, she doesn’t care what choices he makes. 

“I don’t want rehab, and I don’t want a shrink to give me five billion kinds of meds and pretend to care about me,” Michael says firmly. “I want someone I can trust.”

Doctor Stevens nods. “Of course. We have a number of counselors here- you can meet with them, and decide which one you want to stick with. They’ll be weekly sessions, each will be an hour. You’re not going to be pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. You won’t be pressured to talk, especially not about things that make you uncomfortable. They’re going to go at your pace, you just need to work with them, and be cooperative.”

Michael nods. And then another question pops into his head, a probable answer creating a sick feeling in his stomach. “A-And…I’ll still be allowed to see Ash, right…?”

Doctor Stevens chuckles. “I don’t know who put the idea into your head, of not being allowed to see the person you love. You will definitely be allowed to see Ashton, your therapist might even have him sit in on a few sessions, if he feels up to it…speaking of, Ashton, how are you doing?”

“The chemo is working,” Ashton says happily. “Doctor Altman said just a few more rounds of it, and then I’ll be in remission.”

“I love you so much,” Michael whispers, turning his head to press his lips to Ashton’s. He kisses the older boy for a few seconds, before pulling away and kissing Ashton’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Ashton rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m not doing anything to get better- I just sit through whatever Doctor Altman puts me through. You, on the other hand, have to work really hard to get better.”

“Like chemo is a cake walk?” Michael glares at him. “Don’t undermine yourself to make me feel better. You’re doing amazing, and I have a right to be fucking proud of you.”

“Don’t swear,” Ashton reminds. 

“You never had a problem with it before,” Michael protests. 

“I have a problem with it now; don’t swear,” Ashton says back, playfully teasing. He wraps an arm around Michael’s shoulders, and pulls the boy closer, laughing as Michael pouts in protest. 

…

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad…”

Michael looks up. “Zayn, I…”

“Don’t,” Zayn mutters. He comes up to Michael’s bedside and wraps the red-haired boy in a hug. “I was so worried…Harry and Lou were too…what the hell happened, Mikey? And how come you felt like you couldn’t come to me?”

“I…” Michael trails off, not really having an answer. “I’m sorry.”

Zayn squeezes him tightly, sighing. “I never wanted you to get this bad, Mikey. Never. You’re really far down, and it’s so scary to see you like this…my…my sister, she died, she killed herself.” Zayn is choked up already, trying his best to force his tears in. Michael’s heart _shatters_ for him. 

He had no idea that Zayn lost his own sister to suicide. That must be why it hits home for him- why he’s so broken, possibly. Michael just doesn’t understand why he would be cutting, when his sister killed herself.

Zayn pulls away, unzipping his jacket. He takes it off, and moves to stand right in front of Michael.

And Michael _stares._

He knew Zayn was thin, but _damn,_ he looks like fucking skin and bones. There’s barely any fat to him, and god fucking dammit, he looks closer to a _skeleton,_ than anything else. He looks so _thin_ …this can’t be healthy. It seriously can’t be. 

“I…I had a hard time, after she died,” Zayn mutters. “It was almost three years ago. And I broke. I was so angry at myself, because I _knew_ she was suffering, but I had no idea how bad it was. When she killed herself, she told me in her letter that it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t help but blame myself. I stopped eating, and I started cutting. I wanted to feel the same pain she felt- I wanted to punish myself for doing that to her.”

“Zayn…” Michael whispers, a tear running down his cheek. “Oh my god…”

“I starved myself until my body couldn’t take it anymore, and I passed out,” Zayn continues. “I was so undernourished, my body was close to eating itself, for some kind of nutrients. Liam- my boyfriend- found me and brought me to the hospital. I was hospitalized for two weeks with a constant feeding tube, and when I got out, I’d gained almost ten pounds. It killed me. I wanted to die. At that point, the anorexia had turned into me hating myself, because of what I saw in the mirror. It wasn’t about my sister anymore, it was about hating myself so fucking much.”

“I tried to kill myself,” Zayn whispers. “I tried to hang myself from the ceiling fan in my room. Liam found me before I passed out from suffocation, and I’m on so many meds to control my shit now, I have severe depression, I can’t sleep without nightmares, and I’ve developed pretty severe anxiety.” He motions to his body. “This, what you see here, this is progress, this is me eating, this is me forcing myself not to purge. This is me trying my best to recover. And I know I look like a skeleton now, imagine how I used to look.”

“I…I don’t know what to say…” Michael chokes out. “I just…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Zayn tells him. “But that’s what can happen when you let your mind control you. You can’t try again, Michael. You need to get better. Promise me. You can’t do this anymore.”

“I…I promise.”  
…

“Oh god…it fucking hurts! It hurts!”

A week later, Michael is practically in tears, watching his boyfriend cry in between heaves. He’s going through another round of chemo, and this one seems to be worse than the other ones. 

“Shhhh, baby,” Michael whispers, rubbing Ashton’s back gently. “You’re okay, it’ll pass.”

Ashton ceases vomiting for a moment, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip. “It hurts a lot, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael replies, kissing Ashton’s sweaty forehead. “It’s not like you can control this.”

“You shouldn’t have to d-deal with it…” 

Michael rolls his eyes. “You deal with my shit, so it’s only fair that I have to deal with some of yours. I don’t mind, really. I love you, and I love every _part_ of you, even if you don’t think so. Don’t try and get me to leave, because I’m here for the long run, baby. I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

“C-Can you l-lay with me…?” Ashton requests tearfully, as Michael takes the basin and puts it on the ground, to be cleaned later. He nods immediately, getting into the bed, pulling Ashton into his arms. 

“You’re okay,” Michael murmurs, kissing Ashton’s flushed, warm cheek. “You’re fine.”

“My stomach hurts…” Ashton moans. “The cramps are awful…”

“Go to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up,” Michael promises. “I’ll stay right here.”

“Don’t leave me,” Ashton replies. “Love you…”

“I love you too.” Michael brushes the hair from Ashton’s face and kisses his forehead again. “I love you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Anyway, I started on the hockey AU, and I really think you guys are going to like it. I'm trying to make it a little lighter than what I've written in the past, but it'll still have its dark elements. Pretty soon, I'm gonna be asking for opinions on endgame couples, Mashton and Cake, Cashton and Muke, or Lashton and Malum. I'm leaning toward Cashton and Muke, but we'll just have to see. That aside, I'd love to know what you thought of the chapter, thanks for reading.


	16. Chapter 16

“You have your first therapy session today, babe. How’re you feeling?”

Ashton brushes Michael’s fringe from his forehead, kissing his head. 

Michael sighs, curling further into his boyfriend and closing his eyes. “Not good. I don’t want to do this…I don’t want some person who pretends to care about me, asking me billions of questions and “psycho-analyzing” me.” 

“Hey,” Ashton chides gently. “You know that’s not how this is going to work. And we already met with the guy, Austin seems really cool. And he’s young, he looks barely older than me.”

“Ash, you’re 19.”

“And he looks to be in his early twenties,” Ashton replies, squeezing his head. “You have _nothing_ to worry about. I can’t come in for this session, but I’ll be waiting for you to tell me everything, as soon as it ends.”

“Why do I need therapy?” Michael grumbles. “You’ve been there…can’t you fix me?”

“You’re not broken, there’s nothing to fix.” Ashton looks him in the eye. “But I can’t help you properly, I’m not a professional. What worked for me may not work for you. Everyone is different, and that’s why going to a professional will be a lot better for you.”

“Seems like everyone thinks that- _except_ me,” Michael mumbles. “I wish I never even tried, then no one would know.”

Ashton tenses. “You mean…if you hadn’t tried, you wouldn’t have told me? You wouldn’t have told your mum?”

“Ash…I just…I’m sorry,” Michael rubs a hand over his face. “That came out wrong. I’m so used to hiding and hurting in private, and having everyone know now…it feels like I’m suffocating. It’s not that I don’t want you knowing, it’s just…I’m not used to having everyone know. I hate when people give my sympathetic looks. I don’t want special treatment. I don’t want people to walk on eggshells around me. It’s not fair to them, and it makes me uncomfortable.”

…

“You’ll be here as soon as I’m done, right?”

Ashton squeezes his hand and nods. “Right here. And you can tell me all about it. I’ll be right here.”

“O-Okay…” Michael replies nervously. “I…my heart’s racing, why is my heart racing?!”

“Hey,” Ashton says gently. “You’re panicking. You need to take some deep breaths with me, alright?” 

Michael nods numbly, and Ashton continues. “Alright, breathe in, and out. In, and out. Good, You’re doing great, baby.” Ashton leans up and kisses his cheek. “You’re doing fine. Just keep breathing. You’re going to be okay.”

Michael relaxes against him, sighing. “I…why do I keep fucking doing that?!”

“Hey,” Ashton says gently. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control your body’s reactions to certain stimuli.”

“You sound like a therapist, maybe you can be mine,” Michael says bitterly.

“Don’t be rude,” Ashton chides. “Now go in there, and just relax. You are going to be fine, I promise.”

Michael pecks his lips, and Ashton watches, as the red-haired boy stumbles into his therapist’s office. 

_This better go well,_ Ashton thinks.

…

“We’ve already met, but I’m Austin, the last name’s not important. This is going to be very informal, I find that that makes my patients more comfortable- talking to me like I’m their friend, and not their therapist.”

Michael sits stiffly on the couch, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Whatever you want,” Austin replies. “This session is in complete confidentiality. I am required- by law- not to tell anyone what we’ve discussed, barring you’ve said anything about wanting to hurt yourself or hurt others. Anything you say to me, no one else will know.”

“Can I tell you how much I hate being here?” 

“Sure.” Austin smiles. “You can curse me out, for all I care. But I don’t think that’s going to help the situation, considering you don’t have a choice. You’re not a legal adult yet, so your mother decides whether you have to be here or not.”

“Sorry,” Michael mumbles. “I’m being rude, I’m just…I really don’t like therapists…”

“That’s okay, you’re much better than people I’ve had in the past, trust me,” Austin replies. “And that’s why I don’t want you to think of me as your therapist- but more as your friend, who’s giving you advice.”

Michael sighs. “I still don’t wanna talk.”

“How about this,” Austin says. “You tell me something, and I’ll match it. A personal detail for a personal detail. That way you know you can trust me.”

Michael considers this. “Okay.”

“I’ll start.” Austin glances upward, thinking. “Alright, I have three brothers and one sister.”

“I’m an only child,” Michael replies.

“My oldest brother is 28, my youngest is 24. I’m 23. My other sister and brother are twins, they’re both 26.”

“My boyfriend has cancer,” Michael whispers. “And I don’t want him to die…”

“Hey,” Austin says gently. “I’ve looked over your file, and I know that your boyfriend has leukemia. But, the kind that he has is almost never fatal, and from what it looks like, he’s well on his way to remission. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“There can be complications all the time!” Michael exclaims. “Or something can go really wrong and they won’t notice until it’s too late. Or he could decide I’m not worth it, and just…leave…” He trails off, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them.

“What you’ve said is all true- except the last part,” Austin replies. “I don’t think Ashton would ever leave you. From what I’ve seen, you two love each other very much. Love like that is hard to come by, and not easy to get rid of. You’re so loved, Michael. And I really don’t think Ashton would be able to leave you.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Michael mumbles sullenly. 

“I don’t, that’s true.” Austin glances at him. “But I do know that you have a very loving boyfriend, who is through that door right now, and I don’t think he would be able to put up with himself, if he did leave you. You have nothing to worry about, Michael. Trust me.”

…

“How’d it go, baby?”

Michael heaves himself into Ashton’s bed, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck and squeezing the other’s body tightly. 

“Hey, not so tight! I can’t breathe!” Ashton giggles, pushing him away slightly. When he gets a look at Michael’s face, his smile fades. “Sweetheart…what happened? You’re crying…”

“I don’t want you to leave!” Michael cries, his voice cracking. “I don’t want you to die! Or decide that I’m not worth it and leave me!”

“Baby…” Ashton sighs, bringing him closer. “I’m so sorry you’re thinking that. That’s horrendous- I would never leave you by choice. And I can promise you, I’m not dying. You’re gonna be stuck with me until we’re old and grey.”

Michael sniffles, and Ashton begins to rub his back, kissing his hair. “I love you so much, Mikey. And I am not leaving you.”

Michael lifts his head, his tearstained face effectively breaking Ashton’s heart. "Why are you so patient with me? I want to die, and that's fucking selfish, because there's a possibility that you will, even though you don't want to."

"Because I love you. I'm not going to die, and neither are you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter was really rushed idk I don't really like it. I'm sorry if it's kinda bad.

“School is actual hell, Ash…”

“I know, trust me, I graduated.” Ashton kisses his head and pulls him closer. “I hated every second of it. But you’re a senior, you’re almost done!”

“I don’t want to go, though…” Michael sighs and buries his face in Ashton’s neck. “I hate it there. There’s bullies and stress and school literally makes me so suicidal…”

“Babe, I know…” Ashton says gently. “I know how hard it is, I know how you feel. It’s gonna be okay, you’ll be alright. If tomorrow goes especially awfully, you know you can come straight here and we can cuddle. Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“I haven’t done any homework…”

“Your mum’s already spoken to the school about that, it’s fine, you’ll be excused.” 

Michael nuzzles further into his boyfriend. “Why can’t I just stay here with you…? You make me happy, I need you to be okay…why is she making me go to a place that’s only gonna make me want to blow my brains out…?”

“It’s school, you don’t have a choice,” Ashton reminds him. “You know your mum would homeschool you if she could, but she doesn’t have the opportunity to take off work.”

“I know…” Michael sighs. “I’m just…I really don’t want to go. I still feel like crap…it’s just gonna make it worse…”

“Just do your best, baby,” Ashton murmurs. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. You’re trying your best, and that’s all that matters. You’re gonna go in there and get through the day, and then you’re gonna come back here and we’ll cuddle and everything will be all okay again. Sound good?”

“I still wanna die, but…I guess…”

“Hey. You can text me or call me if you need me. I’ve got nothing else to do, I’ll be there for you.” Ashton brushes his fringe out of his eyes and kisses his forehead. “You’re gonna be okay. I love you, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

…

From the moment Michael wakes up, he just _knows_ it’ll be a bad day. 

The sense of premonition is staggering, and even though thinking so negatively will be bound to result in the day being even more shitty, he doesn’t care. He just wants to die- he hates himself and he hates his life and basically the only thing he doesn’t hate at this point, is Ashton. 

The curly-haired, bright-eyed, beautiful boy that he gets to call his boyfriend is the only reason he has to _breathe_ anymore. Ashton’s made him so happy, but he can’t cure years worth of depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. Michael is so broken, he’s broken beyond repair and damaged to the point of no return.

He’s so suicidal and he hates himself for thinking that way, but he can’t help it. He can’t just make the thoughts go away- if it worked like that, life would be so much goddamn easier. He can’t just snap his fingers and get rid of his depression. It’s taken years to get this bad, and it’ll take years for him to recover. If he can recover, that is. 

“Mikey, you’ll be late!”

He stumbles into the bathroom and dresses quickly. His outfit is the same every day- black skinny jeans, black band shirt, and a sweatshirt over it to hide his wrists. He tugs a beanie over his messy hair, grabs his backpack, and sighs, glancing at his room.

“I wish Ashton were here…” He mumbles, talking to no one in particular. He just wants eight hours to pass, so he can go cuddle with his boyfriend and finally feel okay.

He makes his way downstairs and ignores the kitchen entirely, just grabbing a bottle of water and sticking it into his backpack. “M’not hungry.” 

“You sure, baby?” 

“Yeah, mum,” he replies softly. “Can we just go? The faster we get there, the faster I can be done with that shithole.”

She nods, coming around the island. Grabbing her purse and coat, she leads him out the door and over to her car. 

The drive to the school is silent. 

Michael has his head against the window, listening to Green Day and wishing he didn’t have to be here. He closes his eyes, letting the music take over, the sound of his thoughts slowly fading. When it’s silent, he thinks, and he often thinks way too much, making him feel even worse than before. 

“Alright, baby.” The car stops at the entrance to the school, and his mum glances over at him. “Do your best, it’s okay if you need a break. You can go sit in the bathroom or go to the nurse or guidance counselor, anything you feel comfortable with. You’ll be alright. I love you.”

“I love you too, mum,” Michael replies, leaning over and kissing her cheek, before slipping out of the car, beginning the long walk inside. 

…

It’s only third period, and Michael’s thoughts already revolve around slitting his wrists and ending it for good. He’s bruised, Adam made sure of it- he’s pretty sure he already has a black eye and that his cheek is swelling, not to mention how bad his stomach hurts. It’s external, not internal, so it hurts a lot more.

He’s so tired, and he just wants to go home. He hates this place more than anything- he just wants to go and be with Ashton, to forget any of this ever happened. He doesn’t think that’ll happen anytime soon, though. 

When the bell rings, he goes straight for the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls and sighing in relief. Alone. Finally.   
He thinks of the blade in his backpack, the gleaming metal blade that taunts him. He promised Ashton he wouldn’t, but he _needs_ it. Everything hurts and he just wants to die so badly…he _needs_ it. Ashton’s cut before. He’d understand…

Michael hopes so, because slicing his wrist is the only way he’s going to get through the day. 

…

“Holy shit, what _happened_?!”

Michael doesn’t bother to answer Ashton’s question, instead choosing to slip into his boyfriend’s bed and bury his face in Ashton’s chest. 

Ashton’s arms wind around him, pulling him close. “What happened, baby? Talk to me.”

“Adam,” Michael mutters. “He punched me.”

“I’ll kill him,” Ashton growls. “I will tear him into tiny pieces and put him in a blender and put it on liquefy.”

Michael giggles, and Ashton smiles in victory. “I got you to smile!”

“Congratulations,” Michael mumbles. “If you think it’ll pry me off you, you’re wrong as fuck.”

“I promised you a cuddle, didn’t I?” Ashton replies, running a hand through his hair. “A cuddle is what you’ll get.”

Michael relaxes against Ashton, closing his eyes and letting himself drift off. He inhales Ashton’s scent, and listens to the older boy’s steady heartbeat and the sound of his breathing.

Ashton rubs up and down Michael’s arms comfortingly, glancing down as he drags Michael’s sleeve up accidentally. What should feel like smooth, soft skin, is punctuated by cuts, multiple cuts, looking fresh. They were made no less than a few hours ago.

Ashton freezes.

“Michael…what is this…?”

Michael jerks up, startled. He meets Ashton’s gaze, and Ashton sees that the younger boy’s eyes are full of fear, shock and fear.

“I…I, um…” Michael stammers quickly, tense and terrified. 

“You promised me,” Ashton whispers. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt yourself, you promised to _text_ me! You should’ve texted or called, you _know_ I would’ve been there for you! But instead, you go and do this!”

“Ash, I’m s-sorry…” Michael whimpers. “I just…I t-tried…it hurt so much, I didn’t know what to d-do…”

“You could’ve called me!”

“I didn’t w-want to b-bother you…” Michael ducks his head, fear bubbling in his stomach. Ashton’s mad at him and fuck, he’s fucked this up. He’s royally fucked this up.

“You know I wanted to help you, you know I said I’d be there…” Ashton sighs, shaking his head. “Just…don’t say anything, Michael. Please, get out. I need to be alone.”

“A-A-Ash…” Michael chokes, tears running down his face. “Ash, p-please, I’m s-sorry!”

“I can’t do this right now, I’m sorry.”


	18. Chapter 18

Michael relapses.

Actually, that’s a gross understatement. 

He cuts deep, making sure not to go deep enough for it to be considered trying to off himself, but deep enough to cause him _agony_. He deserves agony- he hurt Ashton, and Ashton didn’t deserve any of it. He deserves to feel the pain that he caused Ashton, he deserves to hurt. 

He’s just so tired of this.

He’s tired of fucking up and hurting people and contaminating the world with his presence. He’s tired of not being good enough, he’s tired of whatever he’s doing only being sub-par. He’ll never be anything more than that, and it kills him. He wants to be loved- he wants someone to genuinely care and understand how badly it hurts and that he won’t be fixed overnight.

Ashton used to be that person. 

But does Ashton understand? Does he really understand? Michael knows Ashton’s gone through the same thing, and knowing that, the curly-haired boy should’ve been a little more sympathetic when he noticed the cuts. Michael knows he fucked up, but Ashton hurt him too and he’s just so scared and sad.

He doesn’t want to fight with Ashton- it hurts so much and he hates it. He misses his boyfriend more than anything can ever imagine- if Ashton is still his boyfriend. He wouldn’t blame the older boy for breaking up with him- all he does is fuck up and screw people over and he has no clue why Ashton would want to be stuck with someone like him.

Ashton could have anyone. He could have anyone in the entire world- anyone would be lucky to have such a beautiful, kind, caring, _amazing_ boy at their side. But he decided to choose Michael. Michael knew that Ashton choosing him would backfire in the end- he knew he wouldn’t be a good boyfriend, he knew he’d fuck up. 

That’s all he’ll ever be- a fuck up. He just wishes he was enough for someone, he wishes he didn’t disappoint people left and right, but that’s not the case, is it? He’ll always be a disappointment- hell, he wasn’t even enough for his father to stay. That says a lot. No one wants or needs him and he doesn’t even know why he’s still here.

…

“You’re not going to the hospital today?”

Michael’s eyes well with tears at Calum’s statement, and he shakes his head, ducking so Calum won’t see the tears.

“Mikey, what’s wrong?” Calum falls into place beside him, resting a hand on Michael’s back.

“N-Nothing, m’fine,” Michael chokes out. 

“I know you’re lying to me.” Calum forces them to stop in the middle of the hallway, and leads Michael to a corner. He lifts the smaller boy’s chin, his smile fading at the sight of tears. “Mikey, why are you crying? Who hurt you? I’ll kill ‘em.”

“D-Don’t.” Michael tries to get away, but Calum blocks him easily. 

“Tell me,” Calum persuades. “I’m your best mate, and your personal ass kicker. Who’s ass do I gotta kick?”

“Don’t touch Ashton.” Michael tries to make himself inaudible, but Calum somehow hears him anyway.

“Did you and Ashton have a fight?” Calum’s expression softens, and he lets Michael pass him, attaching to the smaller boy’s side immediately. “What happened?”

“I…cut again…” Michael whispers. “And he got mad…he said I should’ve texted him…”

“Oh, Mikey…” 

“M’okay…”

“You’re not,” Calum chides. “I’ll go talk to Ashton for you.”

Michael stops short. “No! Don’t you _dare!_ I fucked up, not him.”

“He needs to understand that you get like this sometimes. You haven’t known him very long, he doesn’t know how bad you really are. And if I’m correct, Luke gave you a talk about Ash, so it’s only fair I get to talk to Ash about you.”

“Don’t get mad at him,” Michael pleads. “I don’t want him to leave me…”

Calum scoffs. “Please. That kid’s head over heels for you. He wouldn’t leave you, not even in death.”

“Don’t joke about that!”

“Sorry.” Calum shoves his hands in his pockets and follows Michael out of the building. “I’m coming with you, your mum can drop us both off.”

“I’m not going…”

“Damn straight you’re going.” Calum steamrolls right over him. “You’re going to fix this with Ashton- I am not gonna let you guys lose whatever you have over some shitty ass petty argument.”

…

“He probably hates me.”

Ashton sighs into Luke’s shoulder, curling closer to the other boy. “I overreacted, didn’t I?”

“You kinda did…” Luke says honestly. “I can see where you were coming from, but you’ve said it yourself; he’s fragile and you can’t get mad at him because he’ll panic.”

“I’m such an ass,” Ashton groans, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You kinda are.”

Both Ashton and Luke look up at the foreign voice. Ashton has no idea who the fuck just walked into his room. He’s never seen the kid before- he’s wearing a footie uniform and looks angry…that is not a good sign.

“Calum?” Luke asks, and Ashton turns his head to stare at the blond.

“You know him?” He whispers, glancing from Luke to the boy in front of them, who’s name is apparently Calum.

“I wanna talk to Ashton alone, please go, Luke,” Calum says.

Ashton looks warily at him. “I don’t know you…”

“Luke does,” Calum replies. “I’m Michael’s Luke. What Luke is to you, I am to Michael. So now, Luke, get out. Michael’s in the hallway, if you wanna talk to him, but if you yell at him, expect to have your ass kicked from here to hell and back.”

“I can stay…” Luke whispers to Ashton, pulling him closer. “If you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, go,” Ashton tells him. “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Ashton motions to the door. “Go talk to Mikey. And do _not_ yell at him. It’s my fault, not his.”

Luke sighs and nods, pressing a kiss to Ashton’s forehead, before slipping out of bed and leaving the room.

Ashton turns to Calum. “What’d you wanna talk about…? I know I fucked up…”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not here to yell at you.” Calum smiles at him. “I’m here to talk about Michael. Luke talked to Michael about you, so I’m talking to you about Michael. You know some of his past, but not all of it, and most of it is shit he can’t talk about and said I could do for him.”

Ashton’s worried now, his mind racing. What could Michael be hiding? Calum looks serious- it must be something big.

“His dad left when he was seven,” Calum begins. “Just walked out on them. Mikey was young, but it broke his heart. He loved his father. His dad was the perfect dad…and then he just left, he said it was because he didn’t want to dedicate his time to a family, he wanted to go out and explore, he wasn’t ready to settle down. Michael was absolutely shattered…that’s kinda where the whole depression and shit started. He wasn’t depressed, clinically, until he was around 12 or 13, but he became withdrawn and really quiet. He just sat in a corner, he didn’t talk to many people. That kinda started his whole social anxiety…”

“That’s…that’s horrible, I had no idea…” Ashton whispers. He knows this isn’t even half of the story, and it’s already bad, it can only get worse from here.

“When he started realizing he’s gay, he was around 11,” Calum continues. “He knew, when he was young. He didn’t feel the same way around girls, that he did around boys. He didn’t know people think it’s a sin to be gay, until he told a kid he likes boys, and it got around the entire school. That’s what he’s bullied about. Adam and his gang beat him up a lot…usually when I’m not around. I’ve beat Adam up a few times for Mikey, but he never stops. He’s insistent on making Michael’s life a living hell.”

“…so, the black eye and bruises?” Ashton’s eyes widen in realization. “That’s from Adam?”

“Yeah.” Calum nods. “There’s only one more part to the story. Michael tried to kill himself- that’s what got him into this whole hospital volunteer thing. His mum made him choose, this, or rehab. He’s terrified of being abandoned, being alone…that’s why he’s so against rehab.” Calum sighs. “Michael feeds off people. He’s harsh as fuck on himself, he lives to make everyone happy, and he doesn’t care if he damages himself in the process. He wants to be loved, Ash… His dad left, and his mum is trying her best, but she works so much…they need the money desperately, so she doesn’t have a lot of time to spend with him… He wants to be loved.”

“I love him,” Ashton says firmly. “I love him so much.”

“I know you do,” Calum replies. “And you need to be patient with him. He’s new to all this- the love and the having someone there for him…he’s used to taking everything out on his skin, and then putting on a fake smile. He’s trying, Ash. He’s trying so hard for you. You gotta cut him some slack. It's not easy to recover from something like this, and he's gonna have slip-ups. Believe me, I've been through my fair share of them with him. He needs you, though. You make him so happy, you gotta fix this. He’s so miserable without you- I hate seeing him like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Ashton and Michael's reconciliation will be in the next chapter, I promise. I just wanted to give you guys a backgroundo n Michael's past. There's one more chapter left, and then an epilogue. I'm hoping to have this story done by Saturday or Sunday, and the hockey AU should be up soon afterward. Thanks for reading, I'd love to know what you thought.


	19. Chapter 19

Michael is shaking.

He knows he can’t back out – both Calum and Luke are watching him, waiting for him to go inside and face his boyfriend. He’s shaking and he’s scared and he just doesn’t want to do this. He wants to hug Ashton and fall asleep in his arms and feel safe. The cutting thing…it’s just made everything worse for him, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t cutting even more now.

He finally makes a decision to slip inside the room, closing the door behind him. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor, not wanting to look at Ashton, because he fucking knows he’ll start crying. 

“Hey…you can come closer, I’m not going to yell at you.”

The mere sound of Ashton’s voice has him melting, and he lifts his head, shuffling toward Ashton’s bedside. The older boy is giving him a watery smile, tearstains on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Ashton whispers. “I overreacted, and I was such a dick for doing so- I know that I did the same thing when I was in your place, and…that wasn’t fair of me. I love you so much, Mikey. You’re my entire world- I just want to protect you and keep you safe, and the fact that I’m stuck in this hospital bed while you’re out there getting hurt…it kills me. I want to be the one to beat up Adam and hold you when you want to cut. I wasn’t really angry about the fact that you cut…I was angry that I couldn’t prevent it. I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”

Michael breaks. 

He leans over onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Ashton’s neck and burying his face in the other’s shoulder. His tears come rapidly, and he makes no move to quell them, as it quickly escalates, until he’s sobbing into Ashton’s shirt. 

“Hey, hey, shhhh.” Ashton swings him onto the bed easily, hugging him tightly. “You’re alright, relax. It’s okay, baby.”

“It’s not,” Michael whimpers. “I’m sorry!”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the one who’s saying sorry, shhhh.” Ashton rubs his back and presses multiple kisses to his messy hair. “I love you so much, everything’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.”

“You’re not mad…?” Michael’s voice is muffled by Ashton’s body, he lets all his weight sag against the older boy, exhausted.

“I’m not mad, my love,” Ashton replies. “Everything is okay.”

“I missed you.” Michael hiccups against him, finally getting his breath back. He’s so tired, mentally and physically. He just wants things to go back to the way they were. 

“I missed you too, I’m so sorry.” Ashton squeezes him tighter. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael whispers. “I’m so fucking tired, Ash…everything hurts and I hate it all. I want to sleep, I want to sleep and never wake up and I’m sorry I know I’m a horrible person for thinking that, but I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay, calm down, you’re panicking,” Ashton soothes. “You’re suicidal, that’s why you’re thinking like that. And I know it’s scary, but it’s going to be alright. Those thoughts and that feeling are going to go away. You’re not gonna be like this forever, it’s not going to be this bad or hurt this much forever, Mikey. You’ll be okay, you’re gonna recover, and I’m going to be there the entire time.”

“I love you…”

Michael sighs sleepily against him, forcing his eyes open. “Sorry…”

Ashton chuckles. “No babe, it’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’m right here.”

“Love you,” Michael mumbles, closing his eyes.

…

“Aw, he’s _adorable_ …”

“Does he always look like that when he sleeps?”

“I’ve had countless sleepovers with him, he definitely does.”

“ _Aw_!”

Michael blinks groggily, opening his eyes and lifting his head to find himself face to face with Luke and Calum. He’s still in the same position on Ashton’s chest, the older boy’s hand tracing absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Why are they here?” He whispers to Ashton, flopping back down and burying his face back into his boyfriend’s chest. “Watching me _sleep_ …”

“They’re being dicks,” Ashton replies. “And they won’t _leave_. At this point, I should call a nurse and make her force them out.”

“Hey!”

“Rude!”

Michael giggles. “You guys deserve it, you’re being creepy.”

Calum rolls his eyes. “You’re adorable when you sleep, and we all know it.”

“That doesn’t mean you _watch_ me like a damn pervert.”

“Out, both of you.” Ashton points to the door, laughter bubbling up his throat. “Let me spend some quality time with my boyfriend.”

“Why, so you two can fuck each other senseless?” Luke teases. 

Michael stiffens at that, going rigid in Ashton’s arms. 

“Fuck,” Calum mutters. “He’s asexual, guys.”

“Oh god…” Ashton sighs. “Shit. Mikey, ignore Luke’s comment. It’s okay.”

“I’m s-sorry…” Michael whispers, his voice cracking. “You probably wanna have sex…I…”

“Hush,” Ashton says firmly. “Don’t worry about it. Being asexual is nothing to be ashamed about, you have your reasons and I respect that. Love isn’t equal to sex- there’s nothing sex will do for us, to be honest. It’s a pleasure thing. If you don’t want to have it, fine. I don’t mind. I’ll love you anyway.”

Michael’s eyes well with tears, and they spill over easily, falling onto Ashton’s shirt. “I…I find the idea of sex kinda disgusting…I’ve heard it hurts, it’s uncomfortable, and it just makes me queasy, thinking about it…”

“Oh, baby…” Ashton kisses him softly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promised I would love you anyway, and I do. I don’t need to have sex, it’s not something I’ll miss.”

Michael nods shakily. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing,” Ashton tells him firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s a part of you that you can’t change, and it’s a part of you that I love. I don’t mind, no one does. It’s okay, Mikey.”

“And I’m sorry, for making that comment.” Luke speaks up, his voice subdued. “I didn’t know…”

“You couldn’t have known,” Michael replies. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

…

“Ashton, you up for some good news?”

Ashton looks up, pulling Michael closer against him. “Definitely, Doctor Altman. I think we could all use it.”

“Your cancer is gone,” she says softly. “You’re in remission, honey.”

Ashton freezes. 

Tears burn the corners of his eyes, he’s waited so long for this day, and he can’t believe it’s finally here. He’s dreamt about this day, fantasized about it, and now, here it is. And the timing couldn’t have been better. “I…really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.” Doctor Altman smiles at him. “I’ll leave you to celebrate. You can go home tomorrow morning. We just need to run a couple more tests, and then you’re out of here.”

“T-Thank you…” Ashton whispers, emotion choking his voice. “Thank you so much.”

Michael pulls him into a kiss as soon as Doctor Altman leaves the room. When they pull back, the red-haired boy grins at him. “I’m so happy for you! I knew this would be soon.”

“I love you so much,” Ashton mumbles. “I can’t believe this is actually real…I finally get my life back…”

“I love you too,” Michael replies, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You’re finally gonna be happy.”

“No.”

“What?”

Ashton smiles. “I was truly happy the time I met you.”

Michael feels the warmth of Ashton’s words explode in his chest. He’s so happy for his boyfriend, and Ashton is still managing to make him feel amazing about himself. “I love you so much…”

“I love you too,” Ashton replies. “I…I need to tell Luke, and my mum, and everyone, oh my god…”

“Luke’s down in the cafeteria,” Michael says. “I dunno about everyone else, though.”

“I’ll tell them in a bit. I wanna spend some time celebrating with my boyfriend.” Ashton leans in and kisses him again. “Thank you, for helping me get through this. I couldn’t have done it without you, Mikey.”

“I don’t know what I did, but…you’re welcome?”

“Don’t question it.” Ashton pulls him back down into his arms, squeezing him tightly. “Just let me love you for once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, next one's the epilogue. I'll try to post it tomorrow, but it might be Sunday, not sure yet. Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed.


	20. Epilogue

“Ash, hurry up! Your mum’s waiting with the car!”

Michael giggles, as Ashton frantically continues shoving things into a duffel bag. “How’s the packing going?”

“Shut up!” Ashton hisses. “I’ve been in this damn hospital for weeks, I need more time. I just wanna get the fuck outta here, but this room is contaminated by all my shit. I’m gonna forget something, I swear…”

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached.” Luke slings an arm around his shoulders and ruffles his hair, chuckling when Ashton shoves him away. The curly-haired boy takes one final glance around the room, before nodding thoughtfully and zipping up his bag.

“I think I’m rea- shit, where’s my phone?!” Ashton groans loudly, shoving his hands in his pockets and feeling for the device. “Where’d I leave it?”

“With me, moron.” Michael rolls his eyes, pulling Ashton’s iPhone from his pocket and handing it to his boyfriend. “You _are_ disorganized, damn.”

Luke laughs. “He was always the messy one. Without me, we could never go anywhere, because he’d forget something or lose everything on the first day.”

“Shut the hell up, you dick,” Ashton grumbles, snatching his phone from Michael and hefting his duffel onto his shoulder. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

Tears burn in Ashton’s eyes as he surveys the room for the final time. He follows Luke out the door, grabbing Michael’s hand and bringing it to his lips. As they walk past the nurse’s station, Ashton’s name is called. 

He turns around, smiling as he sees Doctor Altman. She comes up to them, handing him a few papers. “There’s the official papers, you’re cancer free. You need to come back in a few months for a check up, but you’re officially in remission.” She leans down and gives him a quick hug. “Good luck, Ash, and I hope for your sake, that you’re never in one of those hospital beds again.”

“Me too, Doctor Altman,” Ashton replies softly. “Thank you, for everything. You’ve been amazing. I couldn’t have asked for a better doctor.”

She smiles, giving them a wave, as she joins her friends at the desk. 

Ashton squeezes Michael’s hand, as they walk down the hallway and toward the exit.

“You ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Ashton whispers. “I haven’t been there in so long. I’ll finally get to hug my brother and sister properly, and sleep in my own bed, and not be woken up every couple hours to have my vitals checked. It’ll be heaven.”

“I’m sure it will.” Luke scoffs. “Now, let’s get you home, yeah?”

…

“You’ll be here as soon as school lets out, right?”

Ashton nods and kisses Michael’s forehead. “Right here. I can’t pass up any excuse to drive, I’ve missed it so damn much.” Michael sighs and leans back into his boyfriend’s arms, burying his face in Ashton’s shoulder. 

“I hate it here. It’s such a hellhole.”

“I know, babe,” Ashton replies, running a hand through his hair. “Text me if you feel the need to cut, and I can swing by and come get you if you’re really feeling awful. It’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

Michael nods hesitantly, before Ashton leans in and kisses him quickly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael mumbles. 

Ashton lets go of him, and watches as the red-haired boy walks toward the entrance of his old high school. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against his car, just wanting to watch Michael until he gets inside, then he’ll leave.

Just as Michael is about to enter the building, three guys come up in front of him. Michael stops short, and though Ashton can’t see the red-haired boy shaking from how far back he’s standing, he knows that his boyfriend is probably terrified. _That must be Adam and his stupid ass cronies._

He stares, aghast, as Michael is knocked to the ground. Michael curls himself into a ball and tries to make himself small, and that’s it, Ashton’s had enough. He storms up to the scene, rage filling his chest. What the fuck gives these asshats the right to do that to Michael?

“Excuse me, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” He growls, stepping in front of Michael and glaring at Adam.

“Aw, you must be the faggot’s little boyfriend!” Adam croons. “How cute!”

“Call it what you want,” Ashton hisses. “Either way, this ends _now_. You so much as _look_ at him the wrong way, and I will see to it that you won’t want to wake up tomorrow morning.”

“You’re just a stupid-” Ashton doesn’t let him finish his sentence, instead choosing to backhand him right across the face. The other guy stumbles and falls to the ground, looking up at Ashton with a hand to his cheek. He opens his mouth to say something, but Ashton steamrolls right over him.

“I’m older than you, I know more people than you do, and I possess the power to get you expelled from this damn school. You wanna mess with my boyfriend, you mess with me. So go ahead, fucking try me.”

That seems to shut Adam up. He picks himself up off the floor and rushes in the opposite direction, his buddies following hurriedly after him.

“Coward,” Ashton scoffs, watching them go for a few seconds, before turning back to Michael. “Baby, you okay?” He leans down and helps Michael up, looking him over. “Anything hurt?”

“I’m good.” Michael is smiling at him. “That was amazing, thank you…but do you really have the power to get them kicked out of the school?”

“Nah, that was a bluff. But it fucking scared him, didn’t it?” Ashton chuckles, pulling Michael to his chest. He hugs the red-haired boy tightly, resting his chin on Michael’s head. “If anyone messes with you, point them out to me, and I’ll deal with ‘em.”

He kisses Michael’s forehead, and then leans in to kiss his lips. “I love you. You’ll be okay.”

…

“I have a surprise for you,” Ashton sings, as Michael gets into the car. 

Michael glances at him, puzzled, as he puts on his seatbelt. “What’s that?”

“You’ll see when we get back to your house.” Ashton looks unusually elated, and Michael is confused. What’d he do?

It’s a few minutes before Ashton pulls into his driveway. They both get out, and he follows Ashton up the steps, onto the porch, and into the house.

“Alright, we’re home, what’s my surprise?” Michael stops in the foyer, glancing at Ashton quizzically.

“Fine, Mr. Impatient.” Ashton rolls his eyes playfully, and disappears into the office. He emerges about two minutes later, clutching an envelope, which he then hands to Michael

Michael stares at the envelope in his hand suspiciously, ignoring Ashton’s cries and urges to open it. He turns it over in his hands and shakes it a few times, trying to guess what’s in there. When he comes up with nothing, he slowly begins to open the envelope. 

Front row All Time Low tickets to their Future Hearts tour.

Michael stares, in disbelief, at the tickets. “How…what…how did you…” He rambles, mesmerized. 

“My mum knows a few people,” Ashton replies gleefully. “We’re going together, Mikey. Front row seats and backstage passes.”

Michael tosses the tickets to the ground and grabs Ashton in for a hug, burying his head in Ashton’s shoulder. “Oh my fucking god…I can’t believe this…”

“You deserve it,” Ashton says gently. “After all the shit you’ve been through, you deserve this.”

“Thank you,” Michael whispers, lifting his head up. He leans in and kisses Ashton softly. “Thank you for everything, I love you so much. When I first started that volunteer thing, I was sure I was gonna hate it. Now, I can’t imagine myself hating it – out of it, came you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Ashton.” Michael wraps his arms around Ashton’s neck. “You saved me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the support and love you've given this story- it's truly amazing. I hope that you'll give as much love to the hockey AU, which is yet to be titled. I'll probably post it in a week or so, I want to get more written before I do. I'm also working on an MCR fanfic, so any MCR fans, be on the lookout. Anyway, thank you so much for everything, I really hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? I'd really love comments and shit, this isn't something I have experience in writing, so I'm kinda wondering how you guys will take it. From hereon out, it's gonna get interesting for Ashton and Michael. Keep this in mind- under no circumstances, is Ashton going to die. I would never kill him- I can barely stand thinking about it. So no, he is not dying. Anyway- your thoughts would be greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading.


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